My Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion by Godric Damp
by GodricDamp
Summary: In the remote wilds of Victorian England, a disgraced explorer meets a mysterious lady. Together they set upon a strange adventure that leads them through the dark echelons of British society in the search for Monster Girls!
1. Chapter 1

**Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion**

 **by Godric Damp Esq.**

 **Chapter 1 - Lights in Darkness**

The last years of the 19th century drew to a close, the cold autumnal light began to fade as I squelched through the endless English marshes of the Norfolk Broads. On my seemingly futile quest searching for the mysterious Long Legged Red Wibblesnatch that had consumed much of my years and money. Occasionally I would hear a rustle in the reeds or a strange call on the wind, but it would just be a common creature like a Bittern or Water Vole. As the rain started to patter against my face, I sighed as I realized it was time to retire to my lodgings at the Butchered Calf Inn, I had made no progress and the cold water was chilling my bones. My fisherman's waders sucked through the mud as headed towards the distant spire of St Ermentrude, the parish church of the tiny village of Hellington, which had been my home for the past week.

I turned up the hood of my traveling cloak as the rain began to hammer down and reflected upon my follies. My fruitless searching for undiscovered species of the British Isles had made me the butt of many jokes at the Museum of Natural History and had me thrown out of the Royal Geographical Society. But I persevered, I had decided to find something or die trying. Though if this rain kept up, I was like to. As I approached the village, I rounded the churchyard and looked up at the grim shadow of the church through the wall of rain. A soft glow of candlelight lit up the stained glass windows, but none of that blessed warmth touched the world outside. As i gazed in rapture at the church I glimpsed a peculiar sight. Just visible through the storm, two fiery lights glowing a dim red were visible, peering around the corner of the church.

They seemed to see me watching them and suddenly vanished, as if turning to run around the far side of the church. My curiosity roused, I vaulted the church wall and landed heavily on the far side, clumsily slipping in the mud. With a grunt I lifted myself back up and tried to quietly follow the lights, unfortunately by boots were squelching so loud any stealth proved pointless. As I looked down the side of the church, I caught a glimpse of the lights peering from behind a buttress. I edged forward and then froze as a deep growl rippled through the sound of the rain. Of course it was only then I remembered one of the local legends of this part of East England. Black Shuck, a monstrous hell hound with eyes of fire, which haunted lonely churchyards ready to drag sinners off to eternal damnation. I was starting to reconsider my curiosity, I was hardly superstitious, but those lights really did look like eyes. I glanced towards the welcoming glow of the nearby Inn across the common and started to slowly edge backwards. The growl came again, deeper and more guttural, like it was rising from hell itself. Then like an express train it hurtled towards me.

With a hellish roar it crashed into me, smashing me to the ground. I fought for consciousness as my head smacked against the church, but the ungodly smell of rotten meat from the monster's maw snapped me awake. Pointed canine teeth filled my vision, as sharp claws raked my chest as if searching for my heart with manic desperation. Suddenly the beast stopped, its mouth closed shut and it flaming eyes went wide. There was a strange squeak and then suddenly the creature sneezed. It reeled backwards from the force, though its eyes squeezed shut, twin jets of flame escaped from under its eyelids. Collapsing on its rump on the ground, the creature shook itself and struggled to get up. As the pounding rain hammered us it was clear the fight had gone out it and with a whimper it fell back shaking against the cold. I sat there stunned, blinking through the rain as I stared at the hapless creature, which began to curl up against the elements. I slowly edged forwards, my scientific curiosity spiking again and this peculiar sight. It in turn drew away from me, the flames barely flickering in its wide fear filled eyes. The enveloping darkness and it's impossibly black fur, meant i could barely make out the thing's shape. But as I moved closer I realised it wasn't a hound or even a wolf or fox, it was a woman!

I shook my head, it ached but I don't think I hit it hard enough to lose my senses. But looking at her feminine curv... (This was no time for such vulgar thinking), it was clear that she was at least in part a woman. With a murmur she slumped sideways and lay in the mud, rain coursing through her fur as she feebly tried to move. She looked so small, huddled in the dark, I felt a great wave of pity and a sense of chivalrousness surged through me. Pulling off my traveling cloak, I wrapped it around her and lifted her into my arms. "It's okay I won't hurt you" I said as she groaned quietly and snuggled against my chest. I strode, (okay staggered) as fast as I could towards the Inn, glancing in the window the bar was full of locals hiding from the rain. I didn't want them to get a good look at her, they were a crass and superstitious lot and I worried at what they might do to her. I tried to stand her up, but her feet wouldn't carry her weight, so I lifted her under the arm in a position which I hoped would look like to drunks supporting each other. Making sure the cloak was well fastened and the hood well down, I eased open the door. Staggering in, I tried to go as quietly and quickly as possible. The initial din of the bar immediately quietened, I could feel their eyes watching us, but I kept going, keeping focused on the door to the stairs. From the sniggers and joking mutters, it seemed they thought I was bringing home some local strumpet and I was glad for their foul minds. I dragged her upstairs to my room and unceremoniously plonked her in an armchair, I threw a blanket over her and changed out my soaked clothes. I was too tired to care if she saw me, I toweled down and threw on something warm. Taking a bunch of towels I approached her, she was dozing sweetly in the warmth of the fire with a slight smile on her dark lips. I heated some water in a brass kettle over the fire, then filling a bowl I proceed to clean and dry my new charge.

I gently ran a hot wet towel over her feet, cleaning the night's mud from between her toes, she twitched and sleepily giggled as stroked her pads. Then softy drying her with another towel, bringing a sheen to her silky soft fur. I worked my way up her calves and thighs, cleaning the fur, removing twigs from the tangles with my old comb. As I ran up her muscular legs, I came to a halt at her, err 'womanly areas.' Though I'm no stranger to the pleasures of a woman, I admit it had been a while and being this close set my heart pounding. Even though it was well covered by fur and thigh, I struggled to clear my head and I reminded myself that it would be unfitting of an English gentleman to take advantage of her in such state. A loud thump broke my reverie, worriedly looking up to see if she had seen my lurid gaze, I saw she was still asleep, though she was still smiling. A second thump sounded and I looked about for the source, I saw the cause as a third thump landed, it was her tail hitting the leather of the armchair. I don't know how I missed it before, but I was transfixed by it as it smacked its mud caked fur against the upholstery, leaving a splat mark each time. I cleaned her tail as best I could as the speed and velocity of its 'wags' increased.

Refocusing myself I continued on to her stomach, which though well-muscled seemed thin and made me wonder when she'd last eaten. I continued my slow methodical cleaning and started to move up her torso and came face to face with the smooth curves of her... her rather well formed breasts. My heart started pounding again, rivulets of rain still clung to her cleavage and I steeled myself, gently patted them away with the towel. Trying not to think about the dark nipples that poked up from beneath the fur. Even through the towel her breasts felt so warm and soft, my hands ached to caress them properly and it took every bit of willpower to pull myself away and focus on her long strong arms. Her hands were a mass of mud and as my towel cleaned her stubby fingers, I stroked the short sharp claws. I noticed there was dried blood on the tips, I felt a twinge in the scratches on my chest as I realized it was my own blood. The pads on her palms were cut and scarred, I gently tried to clean the cuts and then dried her long strong arms. I dabbed her neck and the top of her chest, trying to not think about her breasts below, I looked up and took a long admiring look at her frankly adorable face. The fur on the top of head was longer, but wasn't the length of a true ladies hair, closer to boys hair in length. I dried it gently, my comb struggling with the knots and breaking a few teeth in the process. She was almost done now and there was a definite smile on her lips now, with one of her upper canine teeth pinching her lower lip. As I looked away I glimpsed a slit of red light appear from under her eyelids, which vanished as I looked back. With a smile of my own, I gently dried her pointed dog like ears, stroking the tufts gently at the tips and then caressed the fur on her cheeks. Her eyes sleepily opened, the dancing flames matched the warm glow of the fire and complemented the warmth of her smile. She nuzzled into the towel, moving my hand to tussle her ear and run down the back of her head. We gazed at each other and I automatically leaned in closer, the flames in her eyes seemed to grow in intensity as I we came closer to touching. Then a deep growl came from her, startled a stood back, expecting a sudden attack. But instead of aggression, the look on her face was of complete embarrassment. Though the fur hid her blushes, her awkward eye and body movements made it clear that growl had come from her stomach, not her throat. I was about to calm her when my own stomach gurgled a reply, this time it was my turn to blush and we both looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

As her strange laugh subsided, I dried my eyes and said with a smile, "I'd better go and enquire about something to eat."

"Fo-od" she stammered nervously rubbing her belly. I was so startled that she could talk at all, that I stood there for a minute just staring at her.

"Stay there, I'll be right back," I forced out and since she didn't follow me, I assumed she understood. The pub bar was mostly empty now, but I managed to scrounge from the barmaid two bowls of a dubious stew, some stale bread and two flagons of ale. I'd no idea if she'd like any of this, but the inn had naught else, so it'd have to do. Leaving the barmaid and her amused smile behind, I returned to my room to find my guest drying the areas I hadn't been able to reach. It looked strangely sordid and I could feel myself blushing again, but she had eyes only for the tray of food. I placed it on small table between the two armchairs and sat down opposite her, motioning her to eat. She grabbed the bowl and tipped it into her mouth, pushing the meat and vegetables with her fingers. I ate a little more delicately, trying not to notice the splashes of gravy trickling between her breasts. Though she clearly noticed my gaze as she slowly ran her finger through the gravy, then delicately licked it off, giving me a sly smile as our eyes met.

Feeling fuller she stretched out, spreading her fingers and toes, arching her back in such a way that really accentuated her bosom. Before opening her mouth in a impossibly wide yawn, then snuggling into the armchair and closing her eyes. I watched her for a while, just seeing her so peaceful, a far cry from the beast that had attacked me earlier that night. I looked at the inviting bed that took up most of the room, it was tempting to just jump in a sleep, but my dubious chivalry reared its head and I knew she needed it more. I gently picked her up and lay her down on the badly stuffed mattress, she growled, twitching her ears in fitful dreams that tormented her. She felt very hot to touch and I cooled a flannel in water and lay it across her forehead. It seemed to calm her a little and as much as I was tempted to climb in a cuddle up to her, I knew I shouldn't. I dragged my aching body over to the armchairs and crashed down on one and swinging my feet on to the other, swinging a blanket over me I rapidly fell asleep into dreams of ladies of a monstrous persuasion.


	2. Chapter 2

**My Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous** **Persuasion**

 **Chapter Two: Morning's Glory.**

The cold morning light peeked in through the thick curtains, as birds gaily welcomed the day with their songs. It was so tempting to go back to sleep, the heavy fur blanket was so warm and comfortable. That was peculiar I puzzled, I don't remember having a fur blanket, especially one so thick and heavy. I looked down and beheld a fur covered face cuddled up to my chest, her eyes closed dreaming as her pointed ears twitched. My own eyes widened like saucers and I was about to leap out of the armchair, when the events of day before seeped back into my sleep befuddled brain.

I glanced over at the vacant bed, then back at the frankly adorable features that rubbed themselves against my chest. As my waking mind began to process that the 'blanket' was actually a woman, I could feel my masculine spirit awakening too and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile. Her eyes opened slowly and looked up at me, flames curled around her eyelids, illuminating our faces in a flicking red light. I ran my fingers through the fur on the side of her face, it was so silky and soft. My forefinger stroked the edge of her pointed ears, she shuddered as I tickled the very tip and made a little noise as I ran down the back. She slid up my thigh, pulling herself even closer to me, her dark lips were almost touching mine and I could feel them automatically pursing. Her eyes were like twin furnaces that blazed an inch from mine, but there was no heat, nor did they burn her fur or my brows. The light became thinner and more intense as her eyes closed and our lips began to touch.

'THUMP THUMP THUMP!' "How you two love birds doing?"

The sudden noise startled her so severely that she catapulted upwards in a dramatic somersault, landing gracefully on all fours, glaring at the door with a terrible growl. I on the other hand toppled backwards on the chair, cracking my head against the top the backrest with a curse of pain.

"Whoopsie Daisy, did I catch you at a bad time?" Cackled the accursed crone of a landlady as she heard the crash of furniture from the far side of the door. With a groan I clutched at the back of my skull and struggled to my feet.

"Hold a moment my good lady," I shouted with a wince. I couldn't risk that crone seeing my guest, so pulled her on to the bed and she yelped as I covered her in blankets. Hoping that the crone would keep her nose out of my business and that my guest would stay quiet, I opened the door.

"Can I help you madam," I said with false grace.

"I just wanted to check you and your," the crone paused searching for the word whilst trying to peer into the room. "Lady Friend were well and whether you wanted any breakfast?"

"Yes, we are well and yes, some breakfast would be lovely," I smiled with as much politeness as I could muster as I closed the door in her face.

I turned to observe my guest who peered out from under the eiderdown like a frightened puppy, her ears sprang up as I pulled the sheets off her head and she smiled. I sat on the bed and sighed, "What am I going to do with you?" She cocked her head quizzically though I had no idea if she comprehended anything I spoke. Shaking my head I peered closely at her face, the flames in her eyes brightened and she looked back curiously as if trying to figure me out too.

We should begin with names, I thought. I was unsure she even had a name, but I could at the very least teach her mine own. I placed my hand on my chest and said slowly, "my name, is Godric," before enunciating "God-ric," with care. Her smile twitched, but she still looked at me blankly and cocked her head to the other side.

"Me, Godric," I tried again tapping my chest, then reaching my hand towards her I asked, "you?"

"This, breast." She enunciated slowly whilst looking straight at me, then grabbed my hand and forced it onto her bosom. My countenance must have been ridiculous, as my jaw dropped and she burst out laughing. I was powerless to stop my hand from automatically caressing the warm soft flesh and she giggled coyly, before brushing my hand away.

Again a loud thumping on the door interrupted my reverie, "You having fun in there?" The crone cackled loudly, "here's some breakfast to keep up your strength." I rolled my eyes and headed for the door, my guest disappeared into the bed, a single glowing eye peering out.

"Thank you good lady, it looks delicious," I grimaced looking at the questionable tray of greasy local delights.

"Let me know if you need anything," the crone winked, her smile showing her horrific maw of blackened teeth.

"This, will be fine." I smiled with the last of my patience and forcefully pulled the tray out of her bony hands, kicking the door closed with my heel. In a flurry of blankets my guest was on her feet and in front of me, licking her lips at the sight of the platter as her tail swished rapidly. I placed it on the table between the armchairs, she leapt into one and tucked in. I could barely lay a finger on anything as she gobbled down the sausages, eggs and toast.

Eventually we were down to the last sausage, we both made a grab for it, unfortunately my fingers were slick from grease and she won it with the aid of her claws. She looked at me triumphantly, as I gazed hungrily and slowly licked the top of the sausage. I gulped as she smiled and slid the sausage into her mouth, the sensuous sight made me whimper involuntarily as she slid it back out again, licking as she went. She looked at me deeply making sure she had my full attention then slid the fat piece of meat back in again with a guttural moan. Then with horrific savagery she snapped her jaws shut, ripping the sausage in two. She let out a laugh at the unmanly squeak that escaped my throat and tossed the remainder of the sausage into her mouth with a devilish grin.

I coughed, trying to regain my composure and relaxed back in my chair in an attempt to look nonchalant. "If you're going to torment me by consuming my breakfast, can I at least know your name?"

She cocked her head again with a blank stare that didn't reach the amused smile on her lips. I glared back and said, "well then I guess I'll just have to give you name, something appropriate like Spot maybe or Fido, or what about Bitc..."

"Fine," she cut in with sigh, "my name is Fyren." Before muttering, "Spot and Fido indeed."

"I see you don't dispute the last one." I laughed sarcastically and her flaming eyes flashed with a glare. "So is that your real name?" I enquired to get us back on course, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes" she said with exasperation, "It was the name I was christened with in that very church over there." Pointing outside at the steeple that was visible through the window with a melancholic look in her eyes.

"Very well then," I said with a smile trying to brighten the mood. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lady Fyren." I took her hand in mine and gave it a light kiss.

"Why my kind sir," she said putting her other hand to her cheek theatrically. "If it wasn't for how you were earlier, I might mistake you for a gentleman." I blushed brightly at my pretence at knightly virtue, whilst she giggled like a maiden.

What to do now, if I could convince Fyren to come with me to London, then all my problems would be over. I was sure that the lords and ladies of high society would be delighted to meet such an exotic woman, though I'd have improve her manners first. I'd certiainly be vindicated in the eyes of old bearded men that made up the Royal Geographical Society. They would be astounded by the discovery of a new intelligent species found on our nation's soil no less. They would rue the day they cast out Godric Damp, I'd make them pay when Queen Victoria herself knighted me for bringing this fair maiden before her.

"What are you grinning about?" Asked Fyren, snapping me out of my dreams of glory. She peered closely at my face suspiciously as I swapped my smile for a more amiable one.

I took a deep breath and asked in what I hoped was a sure sounding voice, "how would you feel about coming with me to London?"

"You want me to come home with you?" She asked looking surprised and a little unsure.

"Well yes," I replied with an air of confidence, "the thrill of the city must be more exciting than this little village and certainly more pleasant than rain soaked churchyards." She smiled considering her options, "I'll have to think about it."

"Well either way we should get washed and dressed for the day." I said standing up and proceeded to rummage through the room's cupboards in search of clothing for her.

"Why, don't you like as I am?" she smiled coyly as she ran her finger down the curve of her hip. I took a deep breath, even with the fur, her body was quite something and it took some effort to get my mind together to answer her.

"I personally, am fine with you as you are," I said with a swallow. "But we're going to have to go outside of this room at some point and you might be a bit much for the locals."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked out the window, "yes, they are not the most enlightened of folk." She said grimly, "I would rather they not know I was here."

"Then try these," I said looking dubiously at a long pleated dark green skirt and a very frilly white blouse.

The skirt was a bit too large for her slender frame, but after a few adjustments and stitches it fit well enough. Hanging to the floor it skimmed the boards with a gentle rustle, but at least it covered her dog like feet and tail. The old fashioned blouse looked ridiculous, covered in lace and beads, though at least it was modest covering her arms and chest completely. So at least at a distance her body was well covered from prying eyes. They were moth eaten and musty but she seemed to like them, she turned and swished the skirt in a small dance.

"Godric?" She said in a surprisingly shy voice. "In London, would you be able to take me to any, balls or dances?"

After some consideration I smiled, "I imagine once the lords and ladies of London hear about you, you'll be invited to all manner of soirees." It was maybe a slight exaggeration, but I imagined that she would stir quite some interest within the upper echelons of society.

"And you'll dance with me there?" She asked, holding her hands together in front of her with embarrassment.

"Well I'm a bit rusty," I blushed, "but I think I can remember a few dances from my youth." I skipped a little jig with my feet, which made her giggle.

"You know, I think I will come with you to the city." She smiled happily, her skirt swishing as her tail wagged beneath it.

"Excellent," I said clapping my hands. "I believe the coach to the station comes through here about noon, so if we pack now we should make it."

She danced about the room happily as I dodged around her, changing my clothes and stuffing my possessions into a trunk. Downstairs whilst I settled the frankly ridiculous bill with the miserly crone, I heard the clatter of hooves as the coach stopped outside. I asked the coachman to wait for me and headed back to my room to get Fyren and my belongings. With the addition of my travelling cloak and my riding gloves, she was pretty well hidden from view as long as she kept her head bowed. We headed slowly downstairs, I held my breath as we crossed the crowded bar, trying to ignore the whispers and murmurs that followed us. I hoisted the trunk into the coach and was just about to help Fyren up the steps when a gruff voice shouted from behind us.

"Where do you think you're going with her?" Shouted a huge man, who by his muscles, apron and tools, could only be the village blacksmith. "We don't take kindly to city folk striding in here and taking away our women, with promises of jewellery and dresses. Good lord I know they aren't pretty, but they're our women and not for the likes of you."

"Now look good sir, I think there's been a misunderstanding," I said edging backwards.

"Like hell there is," he snarled "which one of you is it anyway, Myrtle, Gladys, take off that hood?"

Just then a young stable lad ran up and yanked Fyren's hood back. Her ears shot up and she looked about in fear, the flames in her eyes whipping side to side. The gasp from the gathered crowd silenced the village green. The stable boy shrieked in terror and landed heavily on his rump, scrambling away in the dirt.

"What do you think you're doing bringing 'her' back into our midst," growled the blacksmith as he took his hammer from his belt.

"I have a name Jacob," growled Fyren back, pulling off the gloves to ready her sharp black claws. "Or have you forgotten."

"I wish I could forget you, 'hell beast' after what you did," he snarled back, patting the hammer against his palm.

The looks from the villagers were getting nastier and nastier. I didn't need the works of Shelley or Stoker to know these people were a couple of pitchforks away from being an angry mob. This was no time for bravado, the village was out to kill and there was way more of them, than us. I turned and shoved Fyren into the carriage, her curses filled the air as I slammed the door closed and locked it. I swung up onto the driver's seat and before the driver could finish his protest I'd shouldered him off the side. The crowd surged forward to prevent our escape, but I yanked the reins and the already nervous horses bolted forward.

I drove the horses hard, the carriage bumped and swung violently at our incredible speed. I looked back to see the crowd shouting and waving, but they didn't seem to be pursuing. So once the village was far behind us, I slowed and looked down the side of the coach to see if Fyren was well. I expected to find her still raging with anger, but instead she was leaning out the window. The wind was ruffling her fur as she smiled with the joy of freedom, she saw me and waved. I returned the gesture with my own smile, then turned to look down the road that would take us to the train, for London.

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 _[Author's Note] Good day to you, fellow Monster Girl fans, thank you for the reviews of Chapter 1 and I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2. Let me know if you're interested in a 3rd chapter and beyond._


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors Note: Hello everyone, thanks for the reviews and encouragement._

 _I hope you like this instalment, it's a bit more serious in tone, but I hope that won't that affect your enjoyment.  
_

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 **My Adventures With Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion**

 **Chapter 3: Creatures of the Capital**

The sun was setting as the train chuffed through the green fields of the English countryside, as our carriage rocked to the rhythm of the tracks. Fyren's initial exhilaration at the speed and the sight of a strange new world had abated. Now she dozed against my shoulder, her tufted ears tickling my cheek as they twitched to her dreams. I looked at Fyren, her soft black fur ruffling as she breathed and the occasional spark flashing between her closed eyelids. I wondered who she really was, the villagers had known her well and she was clearly educated. I had taken her for a wild monstrous beast on that storm swept night, but I can't comprehend how I thought that now as look at her adorable face that was starting to stir from slumber.

"Good evening," I smiled as her eyes opened glowing like a home hearth. She blinked and looked out the window at the orange sky with a confused expression. Stretching her arms, she yawned impossibly wide, showing her sharp canine teeth. Smacking her lips, she smiled and asked, "Are we in London?"

"Not yet, it will probably be another half hour or so." I smiled, trying not to notice how her breasts jutted out as she arched her back.

Remembering my earlier thoughts I asked her awkwardly, "Fyren, do you mind if I know a little about you?"

"There's not much to tell to be honest, not much happens in a quiet country village." Fyren replied dodging the real question.

"Well I was wondering how?" I paused trying to think of a polite way to say it.

"You were wondering how I'm able to talk, despite looking like a wild beast." Fyren sighed with irritation.

"I... err, that's not what I..." I stumbled, blushing with embarrassment for my rudeness.

"Fine," she said with exasperation, "here's my short sad story. When I was a baby I was found outside the church by the Reverend during a severe winter, he took me in presuming I was a lost puppy. After realising his mistake he then thought I was some demon possessed child and set about trying to 'save' me. He raised me using all the exorcisms, bible studies and (she grimaced at memory) scourging, he could think of to drive the demon out."

She sighed with sadness, "I've made him sound monstrous, but I can't be too hard on him. He did shelter me when most wouldn't, taking a great effort to teaching me to read, write and being a productive member of society. He also protected me from the village, who saw me as their dark secret and it wasn't until he was gone that realised how much he had done for me."

She looked at her paw like hands sadly, "about a month or so ago I found him just before Sunday mass collapsed in front of the altar. I'm not sure what had happened to him, but he was a very old man and I think his heart had just simply given out. I was cradling him when the congregation walked in, they took one look and presumed that I must killed or cursed him."

I could see the anger and pain in her eyes, but she soldiered on with her tale. "They started shouting and screaming, I was so scared that I just ran out of the church with the whole village hard on my heels. I then spent the next the few weeks hiding in the wild, every time I went near the village, they'd drive me out again. By the time I met you my clothes had been ripped to shreds and I had barely eaten more than berries in weeks. I was so cold and hungry I had to try sneaking back into the church to survive. It was then I saw you" she smiled shyly clutching my hands in hers, her rough pads squeezing my fingers.

There was a long silence while I tried to think of something to say, instead Fyren asked "So what about you, what were you doing in a place like that, I doubt it was for the climate?"

"Actually I'd been finding the Norfolk Broads quite a nice place, certainly when you're used to the hustle and bustle of London." I said to her dubious gaze. "I was there looking for the Long Legged Red Wibblesnatch, a mysterious creature said to haunt the marshes of the British Isles. You wouldn't happen to know of anything like that?" I enquired hopefully, but she shook her head.

"So are you an explorer?" She asked back with a hint of excitement.

"Of a kind I suppose," I admitted. In fact of was from a long line of explorers, adventurers and archaeologists. But as the world had grown smaller and the Empire's reputation had grown, it had become increasingly hazardous work. Many of my relatives had gone off into the great unknown only to die of illness, accident or spear point. Now there was only me, a decaying London home and mad uncle Magnus, who lived somewhere up in the glens of Scotland.

As a child, I used to love listening to his crazy stories of ancient ruins, forgotten lands and tribes of seductive snake women. Everyone believed he was barking mad, but I wondered what he would make of Fyren, if we ever visited him.

I gave Fyren an abridged version of my family history, probably making it even more dull, but she at least seemed thrilled. I then delved into my own history, which wasn't as exciting or adventurous as my forebears. I had gone to a private school and then studied geography at Oxford in the hope of living up to the family name, even if no one these days associated the name Damp with adventure. I joined the army, seeing it as a fast ticket to far off lands and for a while it was. I marvelled at the fantastic creatures of Africa, seeing massive elephants, ferocious lions and huge herds of zebra. But that joy was short lived, being the army of the British Empire, we were often required to do things. Things too horrific for the ears of a sweet lady like Fyren and would haunt me for the rest of my days. After that I had rapidly lost my taste for the army life and returned to Britain in the hope of healing my wounds. Even though I had edited my life story for Fyren, the pain of the memories must have shown on my face, as her smile turned to a worried look.

Forcing myself on I told her that seeking a quiet life, I searched the archives of the Natural History Museum for any mysterious creatures of the United Kingdom, that was at least (as I thought then) plausible. The Long Legged Red Wibblesnatch fit my desires perfectly and I set off to find it, much to the amusement of my fellows. After a few years of fruitless searching throughout the empty places of great nation, my quest had turned into a mania. My peers disowned me and my fellows openly mocked my name, but I carried on regardless. My determination to prove them wrong ultimately leading me, to a storm racked churchyard where I'd meet a lady with blazing eyes.

Silence fell on the carriage compartment, Fyren looked at me sadly as if she was trying to decide what to say to me. I started to worry that I had said too much, that she me as a monster, as a weakling or a lunatic. But then she smiled and pulled me in for a hug, her warm soft body pressing against mine as my face nuzzled the fur on her neck. She then pulled away, lifted my chin and kissed me deeply on the lips. It felt like we stayed that way for an age, until the whistle of the engine and the screech of brakes announced our arrival into London. Waiting until the rest of the train had emptied, we alighted on to the platform, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Though it was hard when Fyren's hood kept slipping back as she stared in awe at the cavernous interior of Liverpool Street Station, its smoke stained glass roof towering above us.

I purchased some food from a questionable street vendor and headed out to hail a Hackney Cab to take us home. Fyren pulled the hood down close and would close her flaming eyes whenever someone's gaze fell our way, causing her to stumble a few times. London's thick fog smothered us, but she clung to my arm tightly, glancing about scared by the hustle and bustle of the capital. The gas lit streets rolled past as the cab dodged past carts, carriages and omnibuses, heading for my family home in Kensington. I had considered using the faster London Underground, but the dark smoke filled tunnels were a hair raising experience even for a seasoned Londoner and would scare the wits out of a country girl like Fyren. She gazed in wonder at the huge buildings on either side of the street, her eyes a glow with the glittering shops of Oxford Street and I had to hold her back from running into the department stores of Bond Street. Passing the dark mysteries of Hyde Park and the new houses of Bayswater we dove through back streets until we arrived at my home in Sheldrake Place.

I paid the driver's extortionate fare and led Fyren to the front door. The lights were on downstairs and I suspected Madame Rosalind my lodger was 'entertaining' a guest. This suspicion was confirmed by the sounds of raucous laughter coming from her rooms. Fyren's ears were pricked with interest and I had to pull her upstairs to my abode on the upper floors. The place was pretty musty, I pulled sheets off the furniture sending clouds of dust into the air. Opening the windows to let some fresh air in, the sounds of city came in with it as Fyren sneezed at the drifting motes. I tried to make the place more presentable as Fyren poked and peered at various things around the room. An old globe, various inaccurate maps, faded paintings and unsettling tribal gifts, hundreds of years of detritus accumulated by my family.

"Welcome to my humble home," I said dramatically sweeping my hand through the air and coughing at the resulting disturbed dust.

"Well if this is humble, then I'd dread to think what you'd thought of the cottage I grew up in, though I think my place was cleaner." Fyren smiled, running a finger through the dust on my desk.

"I beg your pardon, but I been busy gallivanting across the country for the last few months, so haven't had a chance to put a duster around," I said defensively.

"I think it's been more than a few months since any duster touched the place," she laughed.

"Well I'll just have to give it a good spring clean in the morning, it's too late to break out the polish now," I said sarcastically.

"True," Fyren said with yawn as we headed up to the bedrooms on the second floor. Pulling out musty smelling blankets I made the master bed for Fyren, before throwing some on the guest bed in the room next door for myself. I felt I should at least keep up the pretence of being a gentleman, even if I didn't think Fyren was fooled by it anymore. Soon I was dozing off and I was unsurprised to feel Fyren sliding in next to me. I cursed my fatigue as mentally scrambled against the slumber that pulled me into its own embrace.

I awoke in a melancholic mood from a strange dream where Fyren-like daughters ran around me, their eyes dancing about the dark room like manic will-o'-wisps. I shook the dream away and blinked in the morning light, sitting up I suddenly realised that Fyren had gone. Bursting out of the guest bedroom I was relieved to see her casually toasting some bread on the fire.

"Ahh, there you are sleepy head," she laughed waving the toast on its fork, "breakfast?"

"Yes please," I said thankfully feeling famished and wolfed it down with some preserve of an unknown vintage.

"You don't have to do this, you are my guest here," I said courteously.

"Pfft," she scoffed waving another piece of toast. "I was hungry and there wasn't much else to eat, anyway it's quite clear this place is in sore need of a woman's touch."

I blushed at the shabby state of my home, "Still, I can pay someone to sort this place out and you don't have to do anything."

"Don't be daft," she laughed, "I used to keep that church and vicarage spotless, I dread to think what it's like now. Just think of it as a thank you for getting me away from that place"

"Still..." I struggled to think of a counter argument. I didn't want her to think of me as one of those luddites that felt that a woman's work was only as cook or a maid. My train of thought derailed as the image of Fyren in a maid's uniform popped into my mind.

"What are smiling at?" Fyren inquired as she poked me back to reality with the toasting fork.

"Oh, err, nothing." I blushed.

"It was something perverted I bet," she said, punctuating her words with the prongs of the fork.

No, it was," I struggled to think of something that wasn't perverted. "I was just thinking, about your desire to mingle with high society."

"Well there's no rush," she looked away with embarrassment, straightening her skirt. "But I was hoping we might do sooner or later."

"Well I was thinking of seeing an old friend of mine, I'm know he'll be delighted to meet you. He is one of those gents that knows the kind of people that hold parties, balls and all kinds of fancy shindigs," I announced with a sophisticated air. "So if you're okay with me popping out for an hour or two to see him, I'll get things in motion."

"You wouldn't want me to come too?" She asks shyly.

"He's a professor at the Museum of Natural History, after the village, I'm a little worried about taking you somewhere with such big crowds." Trying to voice concern without bringing too much attention to her unusual appearance, she looked disappointed and ruffled the fur on her cheek.

"I assure you," I continued, "I will take you to parties, museums and shops soon. Just give me some time to get things in order, I want to make sure you'll have a happy time here."

"Okay," she sighed reluctantly as made myself ready to head to the museum. I could have taken Fyren with me, but I was worried for her safety. I could claim the denizens of London were more sophisticated than the yokels of her village, but I couldn't guarantee they wouldn't grab torches the minute they saw her, the monstrous rage in the village's eyes still haunted me.

I made my through the warren of back rooms at the Museum, trying to remember the way to the Professor's office. I could feel the amused looks and sniggers from the staff who recognised me, no doubt awaiting stories of my next failure, well I'd show them. Knocking on a heavy oak door, a surprised "enter," issued from inside. I creaked the door open and short, rotund man lept to his feet with a cry of "Godric!"

Professor Humphry Fortescue was an old friend of my family and his ancestors had often shared in the glory of discovery with mine through the centuries. As both our families fortunes had declined, he had taken a nice safe desk job at the museum to avoid the dangers that befell many an explorer. He spent his days relaxing, drinking and giving the ever so occasional aid to other staff. As result he was now a very round, red nosed man, with a wispy comb over that completely failed to hide his increasing baldness. But he was the only man here who wouldn't laugh at my face, even if he no doubt laughed behind my back.

"Godric my boy, so good to see you," he said a little over exuberantly. "Have you found that, what's it called, Wibblesnatch thingy yet?

"The Long Legged Red Wibblesnatch," I corrected with frown. "No, but I've found something better, a girl..."

"What!" Professor Fortescue interrupted, "some shy country maid has stolen the heart of young Godric Damp, my word."

"No, well, anyway," I fumbled, "she's more than a girl."

"She's not one of those fancy lads from Soho?" Fortescue asked in shock, "one of those gave me quite the surprise the other week."

"No!" I exclaimed in irritation, "I say she's a girl, but she certainly isn't human. She is human like though, but is covered in this silky black fur, has these perky dog like ears and even had this adorable wagging tail. But the best thing is her eyes, they're literally two bright flames, that blaze with a passion I've never seen before."

I came out of my rapture and looked at Fortescue, expecting to find him laughing, but instead in gaze was intensely serious.

"So let me get this straight, whilst out in God knows where you met a beast like woman and brought her with you to London." He enquired raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure she's not one of those 'bearded ladies' that you see at the fair."

"Quite sure Professor," I said, "trust me you'll understand when you meet her."

He licked his lips and smiled, "Yes, I would be most interested in meeting this young lady, yes indeed." Looking at his desk pondering, Fortescue continued, "Say Godric, here's an idea, I've an invite here to a little party a friend of mine is hosting tonight. It says one guest, but I'm sure they won't mind another one if she's a delightful as you describe. I know some of my friends there will just as interested in meeting her as I am, just be smart and ready at yours at six o'clock tonight, I'll be around to pick you two up."

"Are you sure Professor," I enquired uncertainly. "Her appearance is quite striking when you're not used to it, I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends by causing a scene."

"It will be fine my boy," chuckled the Professor, "All of the gentlemen and ladies there are of the highest calibre, they would never be rude to a lady, regardless of her appearance."

"Well if you say it will alright, Professor," I said reluctantly, "I am sure Fyren will be pleased, she's been looking forward to this kind of thing."

"Fyren?" Inquired Fortescue.

"That's her name" I informed him.

"Really Fyren eh, sounds delightful," he clapped his hands. "I look forward to meeting this Fyren."

I gave my thanks and goodbyes, leaving the smiling professor to his studies of glass of brandy. Heading swiftly home I hopped up the front steps looking forward to telling Fyren the good news. I headed for the stairs, rolling my eyes at Madame Rosalind's bawdy laughter coming from her ground floor rooms. I then froze as I heard a second female voice laughing back, it was Fyren's. With trepidation I eased open the door and their voices grew louder.

"…Don't worry dear, Godric knows his way around a woman, I made sure of that," came Rosalind's rough voice, that was answered by an embarrassed giggle. Before I could voice any word to counter the revelation of such personal details, I looked into the room and the sight took my breath away.

Rosalind was a mature woman in her late thirties, though she could have been in her forties as I'd never dared ask her age. Despite this her figure was still incredible, with graceful curves that only showed the slightest hint of age, it was no wonder that there was a different gentleman with her pretty much every night. At the moment though she was knelt behind Fyren, helping her wash in a steaming copper bath in front of a roaring fire. Rosalind's slight nightwear was complete soaked from the bath water and her fearsome bosom was clearly evident through the flimsy material. She pressed them up against Fyren's back and reached over to rub a soapy sponge over Fyren's own bosom. The water made the fur go flat, making the curves of breasts even more prominent.

"Wow to have breasts as firm as these again" said Rosalind as she rest her chin on Fyren's shoulder and caressed them with her manicured fingers. Fyren made a noise and so apparently had I as both ladies suddenly snapped around to look at me.

"Godric!" screamed Fyren and hurriedly snatching a towel to cover herself, her modesty puzzled me as I'd already seen her naked so many times. Rosalind had no such qualms and stood there hands on hips in her soaked negligee that hid nothing, her long red hair tumbling over her breasts.

"So the perverted young man returns," Cried Rosalind, "How dare you keep this beauty a secret from me."

"You could at least have knocked!" Fyren exclaimed with embarrassment, then screamed, "Oh my God, your nose is bleeding!" I sniffed and reached up to my lip, she was right as a line of blood smeared my fingers.

"It's not the only place his blood is rushing too," said Rosalind with a laugh and I covered myself, my face glowing red.

"So err," I stammered trying to change the subject. "How did you two end up meeting?"

"Well I saw you heading out," said Rosalind, still making no effort to cover herself. "But I could still hear someone moving about upstairs, curious I went up to have a look and found your lady friend here covered head to foot in dust. She was trying to clean that pit you call your home and by the look of her had being using herself as a duster."

"My tail has its uses," smiled Fyren as it swished about in the bath water. "I was a bit frightened when Rosalind came bursting in, but once said she explained she was an old friend of yours I relaxed a bit."

"You really relaxed when I offered to let you use the bath I was heating for myself," laughed Rosalind.

"Sorry, but I have not had a proper hot bath in months, Lord knows what I smelled like and it feels so good right now." Sighed Fyren leaning back and closing her eyes.

"Thank you for being so welcoming Rosalind, I was worried about how you'd, react to her," I said awkwardly.

"What, miss the chance to meet the girl who has stolen away my Godric," cried Rosalind. "Not in a million years."

"No, I meant I was worried you'd err," I struggled with how to phrase it politely as I glanced at Fyren.

"Oh that," laughed Rosalind as Fyren looked awkward. "Unusual ladies arent unknown to me, occasionally my trade has led to perform in shows at this, exclusive club alongside men and women far more exotic than she is."

"What kind of things did you do with these exotic men and women?" Said Fyren with a look of surprising innocence.

"Err," both me and Rosalind said at once.

"You know dancing and the like," Rosalind stammered with unusual awkwardness. It was easy to forget how sheltered Fyren was, while she had proved she was no stranger to carnal knowledge. There was a world of difference between that and the depravities that went on in the secret gentleman's clubs, which were only for the elite of British society.

"Maybe I could dance there one day," said Fyren happily her eyes glittering like fireworks.

"No dear," said Rosalind in a concerned motherly tone, "I'd never have you dance at a place like that, you're far too good for those kind of establishments." Her memories brought the real age to her face and an uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

"Speaking of dancing," I said awkwardly, "my friend at the Museum has invited me and Fyren to a fancy party tonight..."

"Tonight!" Cried Fyren, jumping to her feet in a great surge of bath water. "Why didn't you say that sooner, I've got to get ready and I've nothing to wear." She ran over to the large mirror over the mantelpiece leaving puddles on the floor. She peered closely at her face and began to pull at the tufts on her ears, "Argh I'm such a mess, my fur is all fuzzy."

Actually since her bath, I thought her fur had started to dry with a beautiful sheen, that made her curves look incredible.

"It'll be fine Fyren," I said putting a hand on her shoulder and smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

"Don't worry dear," assured Rosalind with a slightly concerned look, "I've plenty of fancy dresses and I won't let you leave till you look like a true princess."

"Really, thank you so much Madame Rosalind," bounced Fyren as excited as a girl at Christmas.

"Just Rosalind dear," she said with a maternal smile as she picked up an ornate hairbrush and ran it through Fyren's fur. I stood feeling slightly awkward as they discussed clothes and jewellery.

"Erm Godric, we have lady things to do and shouldn't you be getting ready too?" Asked Rosalind waving the hairbrush at my face, "I'm not going to let you take her out looking anything less than true gentleman, so get upstairs and get ready."

"Yes Madame," I bowed and dashed out of the room to the sound of Fyren's giggles.

I rushed about my rooms trying to get myself ready, washing, shaving and dressing often at the same time or wrong order. The few bits of formal wear I owned were in poor shape and I had seemingly lost weight whilst away, as they were loose all over. I did my best to smarten up, there was no time for a barber or tailor, but I wanted to look good. No just out of fear of Rosalind's fearsome wrath, but because I didn't want to spoil Fyren's first soiree. I just couldn't shake a sense of foreboding, I hoped the other guests were as gentlemanly as Fortescue claimed, I didn't want anything to ruin tonight. I was struggling to remember how to do my tie when the doorbell rang, I rushed downstairs and opened the door to find Fortescue on the step looking like a penguin in his best suit and hopping with excitement.

"Good evening Godric," he grinned, "Is the lady ready?"

I heard the click of the door behind me opening and Fortescue's jaw dropped open, I turned to see, with my jaw doing likewise.

Fyren looked absolutely stunning, a long white almost bridal gown contrasted her groomed black fur to perfection as a silver necklace graced the top of her bosom.

"My word," breathed Fortescue, "Godric told me of your beauty, but I never imagined something like this."

Fyren hid her blushing smile behind a hand whilst Fortescue took the other and lightly kissed it.

"Save your flattery Fortescue," said Rosalind in a dry tone as she tied her dressing gown tight. "I know what kind of rogue you are."

"Ahh Madame Rosalind," said Fortescue graciously, "always a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Indeed," she said with a polite smile before looking at Fyren and I. "Anyway I hope you two have fun and if anything untoward happens to them Fortescue there will be hell to pay." She glared at him whilst playing with her long nails, making him sweat and laugh nervously.

"Everything will be fine Madame, I'll make sure everyone has a jolly good time." He said with over enthusiastic smile as he waved to the coach. "Shall we go then?"

Fyren excitedly agreed before thanking Rosalind profusely, who waved her off saying, "It's fine dear, just have a go and have a good time. You'll make sure of that won't you, Godric?" She added sharply.

"Of course M'Lady," I bowed and took Fyren's hand and led her down the steps to our awaiting carriage.

We stood outside the enormous mansion, its huge windows lit up like something out of a fairy-tale. We gazed in wonder as Fortescue happily led us inside to an enormous ballroom that sparkled under the light of ornate chandeliers. Fyren felt heavy on my arm as she looked around dizzily, her flaming eyes dancing trying to take it all in. Fortescue introduced us to the Lord and Lady of the house, who showed little interest in me, but were absolutely enraptured by Fyren. To Fortescue's word they were very polite and gracious, asking her questions and paying compliments, whilst Fyren thanked them shyly.

Fortescue introduced us to the other guests; esteemed surgeons, West End actors, even a Duke and an Earl. All wanted to greet Fyren and whisper sweet nothings to her. I was starting to feel very humble and began to worry one might sweep her away, but she clung to my arm like a drowning sailor. Feeling a little overawed we took a break, drinking some rare wine and sampling the exotic aperitifs. I looked about the hall and it was quite clear that Fyren was the centre of attention and conversation. Ladies looked at her from behind fans, gossiping to their friends and gentlemen watched Fyren's every movement with disturbingly predatory smiles. I was starting to feel very out of our depth and Fyren looked uncomfortable as she stared at her fidgeting fingers.

Then the orchestra struck up and everyone moved to the centre gracefully beginning to dance. In an effort to cheer her up I took Fyren's hand and as smoothly as I could led her on to the dance floor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. My steps were a little rusty and hers had the air of a maiden at a May Day festival, but after a while we found our rhythm. The other dancers took things seriously, but Fyren was struggling not to giggle with embarrassment and couldn't help but smile at how adorable she looked. The dance changed and we swapped partners, swinging away from each other. I tried keeping track of her through the throng, but I only caught brief glimpses of her black ears poking above the crowd. The dances went on and the music swirled as the room spun. I was starting to feel giddy and nauseous, when a new partner swung into my arms.

There was something odd about her, the tall mass of old fashioned white curls looked more like natural hair than the traditional wig. Large gold bracelets adorned her wrists and beneath her large dress her feet made a strange 'clack-clack' noise we danced. Then there was her eyes, which were a deep gold colour and had unsettling conjoined pair of pupils in each. She glanced over at another dancer, an impossibly thin and angular man, who was had Fyren in his long arms. I moved to go to Fyren, but my partner held me tight. She glanced at the man and they both nodded to each other, she leant to my ear, then whispered.

"Mr Damp, you and your lady are in very grave danger, you must leave now!"


	4. Chapter 4

**My Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous** **** **Persuasion.**

 **Chapter 4 - A Grave Encounter**

"Mr Damp, you and your lady are in very grave danger, you must leave now!"

I struggled to comprehend the words of my strange companion as she suddenly wrenched me towards the doors, my shoes slipping on the polished marble floor. I glanced towards Fyren's scared face as she was hauled by her acquaintance alongside. Suddenly the grand ballroom echoed to the sound of angry shouts as the crowd turned on us and several massive waiters moved to block the doors. Seeing this my companion rapidly charged forwards, dragging me helplessly as she crashed through them sending the guards flying into the air. Her skirt billowed out and I was startled to see a pair of cloven hooves clacking on the wood floor of the long corridor we found ourselves in. But my amazement was short lived as a large group of inhumanly large masked guards blocked the front door, they grunted with laughter as the readied crude cudgels.

Fyren, our two companions and I, closed ranks trying to keep our foes in view as more raced in behind us. We charged again, my lady companion's hair flattening as it impacted a guard, revealing two curled horns. The guard crumpled under the force crashing into his fellows with a great deal of cursing. Meanwhile Fyren's equally strange consort leapt into the air with the grace of an acrobat, his long thin fingers slashing at the enemy, whilst long legs kicked out in a stunning roundhouse. I felt humbled by my Queensberry schooled boxing skills, but lept into the fray as Fyren cut at our attackers with her short black claws. But the odds were against us, our companions shoved Fyren and I through the doors as the angry mob swallowed them up. Finding ourselves outside in the cold air, I shoved Fyren into a waiting carriage and slammed the door. I readied myself to climb up into the driver's seat when a loud crack split the night.

An excruciating pain ripped through my shoulder, my mind blurred as I fought to suppress the agony and stay focused on our escape. I looked up at the smiling handsome face of our former host as he sat astride a powerful white horse and the grey smoke spiralling from a pistol in his right hand. There was clatter of hooves as the carriage suddenly sped away, Fyren looked desperately out at me, her flaming eyes glittering in the night, before being dragged back inside by a brutish hand.

The pain made me want to sleep but I refused. With a roar of adrenaline, I pushed myself to my feet and dragged the man from his horse. As he crashed into the mud I hauled myself up, kicking the horse into a gallop and stared dead ahead at the distant lights of the escaping carriage. A shot whistled past me, causing the horse to bolt forward and I struggled to hold on as the pain numbed my arm. The carriage ahead rocked for a while, as it seemed Fyren was trying to fight off her kidnappers. But after a blow that sent the carriage on two wheels, the carriage settled as my heart sank.

I struggled to keep on their tail as they weaved and bumped down side streets. For a moment I thought I'd lost them, but as I slowed a shout to my left caught my attention and I saw the carriage halted outside a massive building. I painfully dismounted and watched as the shadows of two men carried Fyren inside, my heart was lifted by a slight flicker of red light told me she was still alive. I ran after them as they disappeared through some heavy oak doors, but as I rammed into them I painfully realised they had been locked. Dismayed, I searched about for a way in, a brass plate read The Royal College of Surgeons, but there was no way of opening those heavy doors. Running along the side of the building I was relieved to see a small basement window hanging open, I winced as pushed my way through and crashed to the floor with a cry of agony.

It took me a minute to catch my breath as I blindly grasped the edge of a large table and pulled myself to feet. But the sight that greeted me nearly sent back to the floor, as I saw the corpse of a young woman stretched out on the marble topped table. She lay peacefully on her back as if she was just asleep, her attractive face fixed in a slight smile amongst curled ribbons of short black hair. I'd thought she was just sleeping if it wasn't for the blue pallor of her skin and the horrifically crude stitches that ran from between her small pert breasts down her abdomen to the dark fuzz of her pubic hair. I had to remind myself to respect the dead as I pulled my eyes away from her nudity and searched the room for a door out.

The room was a grim place as lines of glass specimen jars filled the shelves, their gruesome contents floating in a disturbing manner. I had to tell myself they were all dead and harmless, even as I was sure a lone eyeball was watching me. Trays of cruel looking stained surgical instruments lay on long tables, glinting in the moonlight. I was mystified as to the purpose of the strange callipers and sharp saws, but I doubted they could be beneficial to anyone's health. Finding the door, I slowly pulled it open, cringing as a loud creak echoed down the empty hallway. As I leaned out, I heard something that made my blood run cold.

"Err, excuse me" Came a raspy female voice and I gulped as I realised the voice came from behind me. Turning slowly, I heard the soft grunts of someone trying to sit up and I stared in terror as the formerly dead woman sat up on the table and looked at me with a pale eye.

She peered at me, trying to figure out who I was before suddenly screeching, "who in the hell are you?"

But my brain had become consumed by fear and I just stood there slack jawed, staring at the naked corpse glaring at me.

"Hey, stop gawping at me like that, you fucking pervert, have some respect for the dead." She tried to shout as she stiffly covered herself with her hands. "Now give me that coat on the door, yeah the white one you damn idiot."

I moved stupefied like a marionette, grabbing the long lab coat from a hook and tossing it to her. She awkwardly grabbed it and struggled to put it on, before looking down to button it up and shrieking, "Oh for fuck sake, what have they done to me?" She pulled at the heavy stitches with irritation, "which moron did these, I hope they never perform on anyone." She suddenly felt her face and screamed, "Now where in the hells is my eye?"

She covered her existing eye and blindly looked about the room, I could faintly hear a swishing noise from the glass jars on the shelves. With a cry of, "there you are," she clumsily leapt down from the table, the coat fanning out as she grabbed the jar off the shelf. Reaching inside she pulled out the floating eye and in a move that made me dizzy, tied the nerve ending from the eye to her socket together. Popping the eye back in, she blinked, looking about and grinning like a magician after performing a trick.

My curiosity got the better of me and I nervously asked, "can you see through that eye?"

"Blimey you can talk, I thought you were some mute, idiot for minute," she laughed hoarsely. "I can see vague shapes, though it'll improve over the next month or so, if I don't get butchered again."

She sighed with frustration and grabbed a scalpel from the surgical tools, cutting swiftly through the threads of her stitches. Then I almost lost my dinner, lunch and breakfast as she pulled open her chest, revealing a shattered rib cage.

"What the fuck did they use, a sledgehammer?" She cried in anger and frustration as she carefully put aside the loose chunks of bone, then gently pulled apart her rib cage. Feeling around inside she breathed a sigh of relief and I was disturbed to see her lungs juddering as she did so.

"At least I'm all in there, but everything is messed up, you'd thought they'd learned something about anatomy from all this." She sighed as she delicately re-arranged her internal organs. Her lungs began to move easier and her heart beat more smoothly as everything was untangled. Satisfied, she secured her ribcage with a lattice work of bandages and thread, before neatly sewing her chest back up with the skill of seamstress. Though she was nowhere near a healthy human tone, there was a definite improvement as she stood and buttoned up the coat over slightly rosy breasts. She looked brighter in the face and she smiled broadly as if full of life, though the left eye was still cloudy.

"Do feel you, feel any better?" I asked cautiously, feeling rather overwhelmed by what I'd just witnessed. I felt a little green as I leaned on a table and took a deep breath to calm myself.

"Oh God yes," she said with relief, her voice now loud and clear with a strong East London accent. "I certainly feel better than you look," she laughed and clapped me on the shoulder.

The sudden crack of pain sent me to my knees as the clap re-awakened the bullet wound, sending stars blazing across my eyes.

"Woah, I didn't hit you that hard mate." She said with a laugh that turned to shock as she saw the blood staining my shirt and cried "What in the hell happened to you, shit is that a bullet wound?"

I groaned I vague affirmation and collapsed to the floor. She rummaged among the surgical tools and found a pair of slim tweezers, looking at them dubiously. Before I could prepare myself she jabbed them into the wound and I screamed so loud that I must have woken the entire street.

"Shit, sorry," said my would be surgeon in alarm, "I kind of forget about pain." Searching through drawers and desks she eventually found a bottle of whisky of a cheap vintage. Tipping it down my grateful throat, it took the edge off when she poured it into the wound, finally she drank half the of bottle in one gulp with a sigh.

"I'd rather you didn't drink during surgery," I winced warily.

"Don't worry, booze doesn't affect me anymore," she said with sad sigh. "But it's great for loosening me up, now if you stop being such a ruddy baby I'll sort it out for you."

I was about enquire about the rot, when she jabbed the tweezers into my shoulder and I howled with pain once again. With some painful rummaging she suddenly wrenched the small ball out and looked at it with interest.

"There you go, see it was only little one," she said dropping it with a clink into a tray. "You should see some of the whoppers I've had to pull out of me, people don't take kindly to the dead walking around."

I gave her nauseous smile and politely replied, "you don't say." Before wincing with pain as she poured more scotch into the wound and bandaged it up.

"There it should be fine as long you keep the wound clean," she said with satisfaction as she made a makeshift sling. "To be frank I don't know why you're making such a fuss about it."

"Sorry I haven't been shot in while," I said ruefully. "I glad that you really know your medicine."

"Let's just say I had to learn fast," she laughed as she rubbed the centre of chest. "Though I certainly know more than some of the idiots here."

As if on cue, there was a series of shouts from far down the hallways, the stillness of the room vanished as my purpose burst through my pain and whiskey addled mind.

"Fyren!" I shouted and staggered towards the door. My new friend jumped back with a start and looked at me confused, I staggered forward, pushing the door open and looked out into the long empty corridor.

"Please be careful with that shoulder," she cried after me as she followed me to the door.

Remembering my courtesies, I clasped her surprisingly cold hands and gave my thanks as her cheeks blushed purple at my touch. "Sorry, but I have to go and see if my friend is okay. I'll make sure to pay you back when I can, actually I never caught your name my lady."

She blushed again at my formality and paused for a moment as if trying to remember. "It is, D'drella!" She said with a dramatic flourish that caused her lab coat to flare out immodestly. I blinked at the oddness of the name and the sudden flash of her body. I had no time to wonder where it came from. So I thanked her by name this time and shot off down the corridor.

The corridors were dark and empty, I ran down one then another, my boots squeaking on the polished floors. I could hear rough shouts from somewhere in the building, but the echoes of the shadow filled halls made them difficult to pin point. I peered into dark rooms filled with nightmarish specimens and skeletons, that looked either human, animal or both. An impossibly huge snake skeleton caught my eye as a cold hand fell on my shoulder and I spun around in shock. I was only slightly relieved to see D'drella's grey eyes smiling back at me.

"You could at least tell me your name before you dash off," she panted. "I didn't know what to yell after you, I don't move to fast on these legs you know."

"Oh it's err, Godric," I replied a little bemused. "Look Miss D'drella, my friend and I are in trouble with some very nasty people. I don't want you getting caught up, as soon as I find her we'll be out of here. It might be best if you lay low till everyone has gone."

"You think they'll be nice to me if they find me," D'drella said with sudden seriousness as she looked at the jars behind me, "How many of those jars do you think they could fill with bits of me, I can feel them even when they aren't attached you know."

A shudder went through me at the thought of being able to feel my parts as they floated in formaldehyde for eternity. D'drella saw my blanche and gave me a smile that acknowledged that I understood and said that I barely comprehended the true horror.

"Very well," I said with a sigh. "But stay close and be ready to run, I just hope we get to her before she ends up in jars.

We both looked warily at a two headed lamb that looked ready to burst out and into our nightmares. Another shout that seemed closer this time echoed towards us, it sounded like 'there she is' and I was given fresh hope. Rushing off with D'drella limping behind, she swigged from what looked like a bottle of medicinal alcohol, causing her knees to noticeably loosen and she started to keep pace.

I looked through a line of windows that looked upon a dark courtyard, a dry fountain was surrounded by overgrown shrubberies. Though what caught my eye was on the floor above, a lantern was moving at speed opposite, large silhouetted figures moved with purpose to the left. I headed in their direction hoping to meet some stairs and whomever they were chasing. With delight I spotted some stairs and as I put my hand on the banister, I heard a skittering clicking as a dark shape rounded the flight above.

Fyren's red eyes lit the darkness as she leapt towards me claws raised. She slammed me to the floor, causing my shoulder to scream with pain and was preparing to strike when she recognised me.

"Godric!" Fyren cried with relied and hugged my face against her illustrious bosom. I wanted to stay there forever, but Fyren suddenly leapt off, ready to attack. Her eyes blazed at as she saw D'drella and both ladies said in unison, "What the Hell are you?"

This was no time for introductions as a gruff voice shouted, "they're downstairs." So I grabbed both ladies by the hands and dragged then after me, D'drella's dead weight pulling painfully on my shoulder. We raced down the corridors as I tried to retrace my route back to the window I had entered. After a few false turns, we made it, locking door and we moved some furniture to barricade it.

But there was no time to rest, with some effort I heaved Fyren up and pushed her out of the window. Her already torn dress ripped on the latch as I tried not to look straight up to her lacy underwear. D'drella was busy tipping surgical tools, strange bottles and to my horror a few specimen jars into a large leather bag. She then boosted me through the window and hurled the bag after me. As Fyren and I pulled D'drella up, the locked door exploded inwards, reducing the chairs we'd placed to splinters. A huge man emerged into the moonlight, his small eyes peering along a pig like snout and a cruel smile on his lips. With one last heave we yanked D'drella through, just as the 'man' smashed against the window and sent glass flying as the metal framework bent.

Fortunately, the window was far too small for him and he grunted with rage as we scrambled to our feet. Running along the building we came to the carriage Fyren had arrived in, we climbed inside as D'drella swung up top and yanked the horses into motion. Fyren and I collapsed into the seats and I watched the streets flash past as we headed east, listened to D'drella laughing as the carriage lurched through the traffic. The wide streets of the City gave way to the narrow tenements of the East End as the slums of London enveloped us. My sense of apprehension grew as grim dimly lit alleys wound off into the fog, I had to trust that D'drella was taking us to a safe place, I just hoped the dead had more honour than the living.

Fyren had dozed off, she must have been running from our foes for quite some time, whilst I was gallivanting about D'drella. So I let her sleep as she leant against the window, gently bumping her heavy head as the carriage rocked. I was starting to fall asleep myself as the woozy feeling in my head grew and my shoulder throbbed. Then suddenly the carriage took a sharp turn through an archway and we clattered to a halt in the courtyard of a decaying coaching inn. I heard the creak of a swaying sign that showed a buxom woman with a curling pink fish tail and a slightly manic smile. Unsurprisingly the words 'The Mermaid Inn' were painted in elaborate script beneath her, though I had to squint to make out the faded text. The warm glow through the windows and hubbub of drunken laughter did feel welcoming, but I worried about my companion's as Fyren cautiously peered from behind me.

D'drella told us to wait a moment as we huddled around the back door to the bar and watched her stride up to the barman.

"Watcha Jack!" She said, loudly slapping him on the back. He jumped into the air with a girlish scream and nearly dropped the glass he had been polishing. He spun around to face her with a nervous expression, he stammered. "Oh, hello there Deirdre. You back from err, your business?"

"Don't call me that," he replied with a sharp tone, before snapping. "I would have been back sooner if the boys had fetched me when they were supposed to."

The barman looked even more uncomfortable, "sorry Deir... I mean D'drella," he fumbled as he glanced at two thugs sleeping by the fire. "The boys had a few too many and err, we thought you'd be okay till morning."

"Do I look okay?" D'drella hissed, opening her coat slightly to show him the line of stitches. The barman went a little green at the sight, before D'drella demanded, "forget all that, where's my share?"

Reluctantly he pulled a small purse from under the counter and plonked it in her hand with a light 'chink.' D'drella looked inside dubiously and raised her eyebrow at the shaking barman.

"I get short changed again I see," she said irritably, but before he could stutter an excuse, she continued. "But you can make it up to me by doing some food for some friends of mine, they're going to be staying in my rooms downstairs, so I'll need more blankets too. Also there's also a carriage out back that needs to disappear, I know you can get that sorted out."

The barman did not look happy at the thought of what kind of folk would be D'drella's friends, I wondered if his mind conjured up anything like Fyren. "Sure thing Marm, you and your..." he gulped, " friends can stay as long as you like and I'll get a message to the Jameson's about the carriage."

"Good man" said D'drella with an unnerving smile. "Now we'll be heading down so if you could have something to eat sent down to us with some ale, that would be fantastic." She patted him on the cheek with a hand so cold it sent a shudder right through him. D'drella then motioned us to follow and we slipped in after her. The poor barman gave me a wan smile, but the look of terror when he saw Fyren made me think he'd made a mess of his britches.

Leaving the now relieved barman, we headed down into the inn's cellar and peered into the cavernous vaults disappearing behind rows of kegs and wine racks. D'drella carefully handed me a lantern and led us through a few chambers until we entered a side room that had more comfortable furnishings.

"Godric, do you mind lighting the other lamps and having a go at the fire?" D'drella said apprehensively as the lamp light flickered in her pale eyes. "I'm a little funny about fire, I don't usually have anything burning when I'm here on my own."

I said it wouldn't be a problem and set about bringing some warmth to the cold room. As the light illuminated the dilapidated furniture, D'drella fussed about trying to smarten a room that hadn't had guests in a long while. An ancient four post bed filled one side, whilst a dressing table leaned against a wall looking like it doubled as a butcher's slab. Torn mismatched armchairs sat around the feeble fire in the grate, as I cursed at the damp wood.

"Sorry about the poor lodgings," said D'drella casually, though a blush betrayed her embarrassment.

"It's fine, you should see the state of Godric's abode," said Fyren laughed trying to make D'drella feel more at ease.

"Sorry I was too busy rescuing maidens to put a duster round," I sulked defensively.

"Oh yes, my apologies I forgot my noble Sir Damp." Fyren said sarcastically with a bow.

"I get the feeling there's a bit of story here," commented D'drella as she raised an eyebrow.

"You could say that," I replied, looking at Fyren as we both sighed.

We sat in the armchairs and told D'drella our sorry story, Fyren would chip in occasionally with her side and to correct my exuberant exaggerations. Food arrived part way through and we were greatly relieved to fill our bellies, though I was slightly disturbed by how raw D'drella's steak was. Once our sorry story was completed she laughed saying, "...and I thought I lived an interesting life or death or whatever you want to call this?"

Fyren looked awkward and said shyly, "do you mind if ask...?"

"...how I ended up like this?" finished D'drella with a sigh and Fyren apologised with embarrassment.

"Well I now know about you, so I guess it's only fair," D'drella shrugged. "Though it's not a wild a time as yours."

"Doesn't matter,"I said with a smile, "I admit I am curious to know more about you."

D'drella blushed and said coquettishly, "you can learn as much about me as you wish, Godric." Crossing her legs in such a way to remind me that she was wearing, absolutely nothing under that lab coat. I blushed slightly and took and pretended to be interested in the fire, whilst Fyren's flames flared as her eyes narrowed at D'drella.

Fyren coughed politely, "So Miss D'drella, what did happen to you?"

D'drella gave her a knowing smile and began her tale with a sardonic tone. "Well once upon a time on a mysterious misty evening, there was a young maiden of impoverished means struggling to make living." I gave her a look to be serious, so D'drella coughed and began again.

"Back when I was a hot blooded living young woman, I helping unload cargo off a ship from some far off place. When this horrific little creature shot out of the dark and sank its teeth into me, before I could smash its bloody head in. I got really sick after that and was constantly hungry, nothing I ate could sate it." D'drella went quiet for a while before continuing with what were clearly unpleasant memories. "Things got a bit blurry after that, but there was lots of hunger, pain and a great fire. Eventually I came to my senses strapped to some crazy old guy's chair, with a load of stitches all over me. I'm not sure what he did, but I was thinking clearly for the first time in ages, even if I stank of alcohol."

D'drella took a swig from a bottle and offered it to me, which I politely declined. She then continued, "It seems the booze keeps me on an even keel, though the occasional rare steak helps too. I made my way back here and scratched a living on the streets, only to run down by some crazy lady riding a horse so badly she was practically it's head. Then things went dark again for long time after that, then I woke..." D'drella went quiet again and started fidgeting with wide eyes staring blankly.

"You don't have to tell us if it's too painful," I said tenderly placing a hand on her bony knee. The touch seemed to bring her back from whatever hell she been lost in and she took another swig from the bottle.

"It's okay," D'drella said after a deep breath and stammered. "I woke up, in a coffin, six feet under. I'm not sure how long I was in there, but it seemed an eternity." A shudder went through me and Fyren at the nightmarish thought, but D'drella soldiered on with her tale. "Eventually I got lucky and a pair of grave robbers dug me up, but by then I so far gone that I nearly killed them. Fortunately, they managed to fight me off and after a drink or two we struck up a partnership."

Fyren and I looked at each other a little bemused as D'drella took another swig. "Now doctors and scientists will pay good money for corpses, but it's a dangerous and grizzly job, with the noose waiting for anyone caught. So we hit upon the idea of selling me as a corpse to these rich fools and I'd scarper to do it all again somewhere else. We've made quite a bit this way, but the hard part is lying there for ages whilst money changes hands and what not. So this time I thought I'd experiment with some opiates, to see if they'd help and they knocked me for six. The next thing I knew someone had rummaged around with my insides and you were making an absolute racket."

She smiled at me as she finished and I blinked as I took it all in. It was a horrific tale, though I couldn't help but be impressed at how she stayed so chipper and had even turned things to her advantage.

"Thank you for telling us all this, D'drella," I said kindly. "Our adventures have been hair raising, but I'd never swap them for yours."

"No, I should be thanking you," she said with relief in her voice. "It's been nice to talk about it with people that don't run away screaming, once they realise what I am." She looked a little sad, then smiled at me before asking, "also could you, call me Deirdre?" She flushed with embarrassment and explained, "A while ago I'd be reading some stories about vampires and the fancy of a new enigmatic name took me as I settled with me being dead. But now hearing you calling me it regularly, I've realised just how stupid it sounds. So please, call me Deirdre."

Fyren and I laughed lightly, "I had wondered, when I heard the barman call you that," I said with a smile.

"Oh, you did hear," moaned D'drel... no Deirdre, as she buried her face in her hands.

As the laughter died my head started to feel heavy, with a yawn and a stretch I announced. "Right, I need to get some rest, would you ladies be okay on the bed whilst I doze here in the armchairs?"

Fyren and Deirdre glanced at each other doubtfully. "Actually Godric," said Deirdre awkwardly. "It would be better if you took the bed, I should take a proper look at that shoulder wound and it'll be easier if you're lying down."

"Yeah you're looking cold Godric," said Fyren quickly, "it'd be better if I was there to keep you warm."

"No, if anything he looks hot," said Deirdre with authority. "He'd be far better off with something cold, you'll be fine curled up in front of the fire."

Fyren's fur bristled, but before she could retort I stood, spreading my arms in a gesture of peace. This was a mistake as almost instantly my head violently swam and I staggered forward. "Godric!" They both cried and I blacked out, as the floor shot towards me.

Sometime later I awoke in a groggy state feeling strangely lopsided, one side was warm, whilst the other was cold. I looked down to see Fyren and Deirdre sleeping on each side of my chest. They looked so peaceful as I ran my fingers through their hair and stroked their cheeks. Deirdre seemed to have changed the dressings on my wound and the cool touch of her cheek against it felt lovely. I also became aware of the cool touch of her skin right the way down my body, as I realised she was naked, her hard nipples poking me.

Judging from the feel of her soft warm fur, Fyren was equally undressed. She snuggled in close, wrapping a leg around mine and pushing my arm between her tender breasts. I lay back and smiled, enjoying their company as I wondered why they had felt the need to remove my clothes. I just hoped I hadn't missed anything interesting, whilst I had been out for the count.

Looking back at their sleeping faces I thought about what to do next. We could head north, try and start a new life away from those that would do us harm. I had little money and resources now, but maybe my Scottish Uncle would welcome us?

Though I was also worried about my lodger Rosalind and the two strangers that had helped us escape. Our foes clearly had the money and power to do horrible things to them, if they weren't already. I felt it was wrong to just run away and leave them to their fates, but would it be too dangerous to attempt a rescue?

I would have to sleep on it and see what Fyren thought in the morning. I suspected she'd want to mount a rescue, but I wasn't sure how the two of us could take on our enemy, without being slaughtered. As for Deirdre, but her unique talents could prove useful, whatever we ended up doing, but I didn't know if I wanted to get her involved in something so dangerous.

Either way tomorrow would prove to be a turning point, in my increasing strange Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion.

 _[Author's Note: I hope people are still enjoying this tale, I haven't had as much time to work on this due to real life and SNAFU consuming most of my time. As I always I like to hear your thoughts, particularly about the direction this story could go in, though I worry that it is increasingly straying from being a Monster Musume fan fiction.]_


	5. Chapter 5

**My Adventures with Ladies of a Monstrous Persuasion**

 **Chapter 5**

We had enjoyed a peaceful few days in the cellars of the Mermaid Inn, deep in the darkest tenements of East London. Well I say peaceful, but ladies Fyren and Deirdre had been increasingly at each other's throats, arguing over the slightest of trifles. I however was starting to recover from the bullet wound to my shoulder and had been quite enjoying the company of my strange companions, though it was impossible to say who I preferred more. Miss Fyren, the enigmatic hound-like country girl with the eyes of ruby flame or unexpectedly lively cadaver, that was Miss Deirdre.

I awoke to the now accustomed hot and cold of the two ladies lying next to me. The first thing that struck me was the smell, above the musty sulphur smell of Fyren and the Deirdre's reek of cheap gin, was the smell of smoke. As I tried to confirm the smell, Fyren's head snapped up, her ears and black nose rapidly twitching. Leaping up with eyes wide, her head snapped back and forth as she declared, "Godric, the Inn's on fire!"

Deirdre awoke slowly from her slumber, blinking in confusion at the commotion. Then caught a whiff of the smoke and shrank back in terror beneath the blankets. There was almighty crash as something collapsed upstairs and the whole cellar shook as a cloud of smoke swept through.

"What in God's name are you two lying there for?" Shrieked Fyren, "we must get out of here."

I scrambled to my feet, but Deirdre refused to move as she cowered like a child. The alcohol she used to keep her body from rotting, made her extremely inflammable and just being near a candle played havoc with her nerves. The air was starting to get thin and I began to cough as the smoke thickened. I grabbed the walking corpse and yanked her upright, dragging the blanket with her, with a yell of, "come on!"

Pushing for the stairs, a wall of flame greeted us from the top of the stairs. My heart sank as I tried to think of another way out, but the metal trap doors to the street were red hot under the intense heat of the inferno above.

"Don't worry, I can get us out of here," said Fyren with a nervous smile as she started up the stairs. I followed with trepidation, dragging the whimpering Deirdre behind me. Though the roar of the conflagration I could faintly hear a chanting voice, singing what sounded like hymns in shaking voice. I strained to make out the words and recognised the sound of Latin, but my knowledge was too rusty to understand their meaning.

I peered forwards and saw Fyren's black lips moving rapidly, her blazing eyes dancing in exotic shapes as she sang. Up ahead the wall of flames also began to dance, pulling back like a curtain to create a tunnel through the inferno. But I was too focused on forcing Deirdre ahead of me, to pay the miracle much mind. She was nearly hysterical now, tugging the blanket tight around her and I could see fires glittering in her terror filled pale eyes.

I endured the uncomfortable feeling of heat curling my sideburns and spotted smoke rising off Fyren's fur, as we slowly made are way through the overwhelmed lounge bar. The flames edged ever closer, when Fyren's chant began to falter, her voice shaking as panic set in. So spying a gap, I grabbed the two women and charged for the door like a raging bull.

The weakened door exploded, along with the pain in my shoulder, as I smashed into the door. We hurtled through into shockingly frigid night air, crashing to the cobbled courtyard as great fireball roared overhead.

My relief was cut short, by a scream echoing through the night and Deirdre hurled the blazing blanket off. Still trailing flames, she ran away from the inferno at full pelt and dived into the horse trough, leaving a great hiss of steam on the surface. I pulled her spluttering from the water and Deirdre stared wide eyed as the inn collapsed in a grand column of sparkling embers. The Mermaid on the sign, had a macabre smile as it watched the tragic conflagration, before it too was consumed by the flames.

I suddenly felt something patting me on the head and saw Fyren smiling as she explained, " a few of your hairs were burning."

I thanked her and noticed a few smouldering patches on her own head, especially on the tips of her ears. So I gave her head a few pats and found it strangely enjoyable, so much so that Fyren had to stop me when her smoking fur had been long extinguished.

Looking back at the blazing building, I considered the chances of the fire being accidental to be pretty minute and knew we had to get out of here. Away from the blaze, the night was rather chilly in my simple breeches and night shirt. I was glad that neither of the ladies felt the cold to badly in their flimsy nightwear, especially since despite the situation, the sight was still rather pleasant.

Getting my scandalous mind back into the situation, we headed for a narrow alleyway to escape the inferno. But as we neared the end, a great figure loomed into view, blocking our escape. Turning back, another massive shadow sealed off the alley's entrance and I realised we were trapped.

"See gentlemen, like rats escaping a sinking ship," laughed a well-educated voice. Followed by the guttural chuckles of the massive pig faced men, as a small side door opened and a shaft of light lit the alley.

The smartly dressed host from the party Fyren and I had escaped from a few days' prior, stepped into the alley. He raised an elaborate pistol and said "I'm aiming for your heart this time Mr Damp, so please cooperate or I will kill you."

"What do you want from us, what's so important about these two?" I demanded.

"My master has taken a great interest in your fire eyed friend there," said the Lord casually. "Then as luck would have it, you led us right to that mortally challenged lady, who we've been after for quite some time."

"Don't think you've got me yet," Deirdre yelled and launched herself at him. Fyren joined the fray as the narrow alley descended into chaos and I readied myself to fight. But my bravado was short lived, when a massive hand grabbed my shoulder and hurled me against the cobbled street. Everything went black as I could faintly hear the other two screaming my name.

A smell as damp as my name greeted me as I woke, accompanied by the constant sound of dripping water as I looked at unfamiliar curved ceiling. I slowly sat up, my vision swimming as I clutched my bandaged head in my hands.

Where the hell was I?

It was most certainly a dungeon, but where it was or how many days had passed, was beyond my knowledge. A movement on the far side of a row of crude iron bars caught my attention and in the flickering light of burning torches, I made out a girl looking back at me.

I staggered to my feet and stumbled over to her, gripping the bars to keep myself from collapsing. The girl jumped back in alarm, her eyes darting up and down the tunnel. Seeing her properly in the torchlight, I saw she was without a doubt not human or ever had been. She had mottled grey skin which lightened on the underside of her arms, legs and stomach. But unlike Deirdre's deathly pale grey pallor, this girl's skin was more like a seal or porpoise, though it looked unhealthy on her emaciated body. Behind her a long tail swung feebly, ending in two wide flukes that were marked by nasty cuts and gouges, that probably made it now near useless for swimming.

She looked in her late adolescence, though her poor health and inhuman condition made it difficult to be sure. Her dark grey hair looked like it had been brutally cut short with shears, into a short spikey mess that made her look boyish in the dim light. Her petit effeminate figure was barely clad in bundle of filthy rags, with most of her garb comprising of a brutal mass of iron chained manacles that linked her arms, legs and neck.

I reached out to her and asked for aid, but she shook her head fearfully, her large black eyes wide in silent terror. She shuffled off as fast as her chains could allow and I was alone again, at least at first I thought I was alone. But as I listened I could hear the faint sounds of sobbing and muttering, echoing from the other cells. I called out, but apart from an extended silence, I received no reply. Even this small effort made me feel giddy, so I collapsed on to the wooden bench that served as a bed and fell asleep again.

As the days progressed, the walls seemed to get closer and closer, as the darkness became ever deeper. I'd tried talking to the strange girl, but I'd only gained the name 'Ailsa,' which she said in a quiet if thick Scottish accent. She only visited a few times a day with some brackish water and a bowl of foul gruel, but I didn't have much choice, but to eat it.

I wondered how the others were doing, Ailsa had no news of their whereabouts and I could only hope they were well. The only other visitor was the guard, another huge pig faced man, who merely laughed at my questions and made obscene comments about the fluke tailed girl. It might have days, it might have been weeks, but one day as I counted the bricks, I was greeted by a familiar face.

"Hello Godric old boy," came a nervous voice that was doing its utmost to sound cheerful. I shot off the bench and lunged at the cringing face of Fortescue, my former colleague at the museum. He leapt back as I crashed against the bars, my hand grasping for the pathetic wastrel's throat.

My hand suddenly burst into a flower of pain, when the guard savagely brought a truncheon down and I regretfully pulled my hand back. I proceeded to pace behind the bars like a tiger, nursing my hand as I glared at Fortescue.

"Look Godric," stuttered Fortescue, sweat pouring from his brow. "The Master has asked for you to be brought before him and well I'm asking, no pleading for you to cooperate."

"Your Master," I snorted. "I assume he's one of these 'fine gentlemen' that you were going to introduce Fyren and myself to?"

"The Master is a great and powerful man, Godric," stammered Fortescue as he dabbed sweat with the stained sleeve of the ridiculously ornate red robes he now wore. "He will not take disobedience lightly, if he doesn't take out his displeasure on you, he will certainly take it out on your friends."

"You've seen them then, are they well?" I cried desperately, my face so close to the bars that I almost lost my nose to the truncheon.

"I've seen them, yes," Fortescue said evasively.

"If anything has happened to them, I swear to God that I will take it on you a hundred fold!" I bellowed at the cringing figure, earning the bars a clang as the guard swung his truncheon again.

Fortescue blanched, struggling to maintain his composure as he said, "I believe the Master wants to speak with you about them. I imagine they will be there as well; you can see them if you promise me that you'll be a gentleman."

"A gentleman!" I exclaimed with a laugh. "After what you've put me through, it's rather rich talking to me about being a gentleman."

"Please Godric," Fortescue begged. "Listen to what the Master has to say, if not things will go very badly for you and your lady friends."

I turned away from the pathetic sight and pondered my options, which were few. I could either sit here and rot or meet with this pompous twit the titled himself 'The Master.' It wasn't a great choice, but at least I'd see something other than these walls.

"Very well Fortescue," I said at last with an irritated sigh. "Take me before this 'Master' of yours."

Fortescue breathed an immense sigh of relief and began to fumble for the keys as he opened the cell door. The pig faced man watched me with tiny, stupid eyes, patting his weapon to make sure I knew what escape might cost me.

I was marched along the dimly lit corridor, glancing into the other cells and their incredible occupants. Each housed a different inhuman girl, every one more fantastical than the last and all looking at me with vacant eyes. An enormous giantess lay curled up in a large side chamber, bound to the wall by great chains, that looked like belonged on a steamship. There was a slight clinking as she watched us pass and then she slumped back into despondency.

We wound through stone corridors, passing heavy doors and dark tunnels, as we climbed steadily upwards. The architecture became increasing more ornate, with wood panelling and carpets replacing damp stone. Eventually we came to a huge pair of carved doors and were led inside a cavernous chamber.

The great vaulted chamber resembled a church in construction, with a row pillars down each side. The main difference been the complete lack of windows, indicating that we were still probably deep underground and the only light coming from burning braziers. A small crowd of men in red robes stood around the room, waited upon by enslaved semi humans and guarded by the pig faced men. Along the walls were tapestries and statues, all depicting men slaying or enslaving monstrous beasts. But the centrepiece on a raised dais, was a huge throne of carved marble. On which sat a man, resplendent in purple robes with elaborate golden embroidery.

He looked bored as we entered, but soon sat up when I was frog marched in front of him, raising an eyebrow as our eyes met. The light from the two braziers either side of him, flickered on his smoothly shaven head and hard features, as flames glimmered in his dark eyes. The coldness of that gaze, sapped at my determination, even Deirdre's pale stare had more life than his.

"This is Godric, Master," grovelled Fortesque. His head bowed so low, I was surprised even knew where his master was.

"Indeed," said the man seated on the throne, as he studied me intently. His voice deep as he commanded, "bring them to me" and snapped his fingers.

There was a commotion to my left, where a door opening to reveal Fyren and Deirdre struggling with their captors. They both looked in a sorry state as they tried to wrench free, but we're soon clouted into submission. Deirdre was unsettlingly wild, her teeth bared as she hissed breathily and tried to snap hungrily at the arm of the guard. Her skin was green and purple in places, along with several new lines of stitches that bore witness to the unspeakable horrors that she must have undergone. I thought at first she might be too far gone, but when Deirdre saw me, she came back to herself for a moment and yelled my name at the same time as Fyren.

Fyren was missing chunks of fur and was covered in the thin cuts from a whip's lash, along with some painfully swollen bruises. At first I thought her eyes were shut, but as she got closer I saw with a shudder that they were empty voids. Tiny sparks of red flame flickered feebly around the lids, only becoming livelier as she looked at me.

Rage filled my heart and I lunged towards them, but my guard grabbed my shoulder and I was lifted into the air by my own momentum. I struggled with him, but he was too strong and heavy clout sent me too my knees. Deirdre and Fyren tried to get to me, but their captors were also insurmountable and they were far too weak from their clearly brutal incarceration.

"There will be time for that later," said the Master with irritation. He snapped his fingers again and Ailsa walked stiffly over with a golden goblet, her head bowed as chains clinked.

Disgusted at his pomposity, I took a deep breath and demanded, "Look, want do you want, why are you keeping us imprisoned here, what have we done to you?"

The Master smiled with amusement as he said, "my dear Mr Damp. What I want, what we want, is merely maintaining the natural order. Keeping Man's rightful place above all beasts, whether they be the oxen, the lion or these despicable creatures."

Fyren and Deirdre made another futile lunge in anger, while Ailsa pulled the chains between wrists taut as she to hide her anger. The Master gave them a disgusted look and continued with, "but first like all beasts they must be tamed and before that they must be broken." He ran a hand over the head of Ailsa with a mocking smile as she shuddered in revulsion.

"Now some of them, like my Orc friends here," The Master said waving a ring encrusted hand at the pig faced men. "Are smart enough to recognise the benefits of cooperation, whether they be in gold, wine or sweeter meats."

These 'Orcs' chuckled stupidly as they made leering faces at the women in the room. Licking their lips in way that made me sick to the stomach as I tried not to think about their vile desires. The Master smiled beatifically upon them and then sighed at the other semi humans as he said, "unfortunately some here do not see the light as easily. So we have to resort to threats and strict discipline in order to assure their obedience. So I like to think of this place as a school of sorts, taming these creatures so that they may better serve mankind."

I took a moment to digest his speech and then snapped back, "you could have fooled me, this place looks more like a whorehouse than a schoolhouse." Looking about at the scantily clad semi human women that dotted the hall.

"Yes, while some of my followers seek to use them for more, carnal desires." The Master chuckled while raising an eyebrow at Fortescue, "that is the barest minimum of their potential. This goblet for example, was brought up from a sunken wreck by the family of my young friend here. It once belonged to a prince leading the Spanish Armada and is just a sample of treasures that would have been lost to the ages, if we didn't have her kind under our control." He gave Ailsa a smile that she did not return and laughed at her insolent expression.

"But even that is nothing," the Master continued, turning his eyes on Deirdre. "Some of these creatures hold secrets that could change the world forever, guaranteeing mankind's place as rulers of this world till the end of time. For instance, your undead friend here holds the secret of true immortality. Granted it's a little, unpleasant at the moment, but with the application of modern science it could be the key for life everlasting."

Deidre snapped her yellowing teeth at him madly and yelled. "Come 'ere ya bastard and I'll give you a nip that will keep ya alive, no matter how much I kick the shit outta ya."

"I think not," said the Master and signalled for the guard to drive Deirdre to her knees, as Fyren called out to her. The Master then looked at Fyren as he continued, "As for that one, she is the most intriguing. In her infernal soul, holds the chance to establish contact with Hell itself. I believe she can open up contact with the dark lords of the pit, allow us to make a deal that will gift the power to rule over this world and beyond!"

His eyes were glittering with a terrifying fervour as Fyren screamed, "For the thousandth time, I've no idea what you're talking about. I was left outside a church as baby and I've no idea how I contact demons or open gateways, even if I wanted too. Though if you want to see the Devil so bad, I'll tear your throat out and you'll meet him instantly."

The Master laughed at Fyren as he replied, "that won't be necessary my dear. You may not be consciously aware of it, but deep within that demonic mind, there are instincts that when brought forth will give me the secrets I seek."

"You'll never find them," Fyren cried with exasperation, "Because they're no secrets to find."

"Oh I'm sure there are," chuckled the Master. "We just need to find the right leverage to get them out, which is why you're here, Godric."

"Like hell I'm helping you," I laughed back incredulously.

"I'll put it simply Mr Damp," sighed the Master after a pause. "You seem to have a way with these, creatures and they trust you like I've never seen one trust a human before. If you can convince them to give us the information we need, then they will be yours to do with as you please."

"And if I was pleased to take them out of here?" I sneered.

"Apart from that," the Master said irritably. "You and your friends will never leave this place until I am assured of your absolute obedience. But you will live well, with your friends at your beck and call. I'll even throw in this miserable wretch as well, her and her family have outlived their usefulness anyway."

The Master waved a hand at Ailsa, who glowered with fury at her chains, pulling them taut over and over.

"I'm guessing you'll kill me if I refuse?" I asked.

"Oh no Mr Damp," the Master laughed. "You will live a long and miserable life in our deepest, darkest cell, where you will be collateral to assure your friends cooperation. Any disobedience on their part will be issued tenfold on yourself." He snarled at Fyren and Deirdre, "Have I made myself clear?" who snarled back, though their eyes glanced at me in worry.

As I stood glaring at the grandiose fool ranting on his throne, I saw Ailsa slowly edging backwards. She glanced up at the Master pulling her chains taut as she tried to move without making a sound. The Master started to turn to follow my gaze and I realised that I had to distract him, before he saw Ailsa.

"So," I announced loudly, drawing his attention. "If I join you, I'll get my own quarters with a proper bed and food laid on?"

The Master gave a nauseating smile, "Why of course. As long as you make your friends behave themselves, you can live like a prince."

I dragged out a face of consideration, while I tried to not watch Ailsa disappearing behind the throne. Fyren and Deirdre looked at me with worried expressions, as the Master tapped his bejewelled fingers.

Then the Master leant forward and said, "So Mr Damp, what will your answ-"

His words were cut short, when Ailsa swung her arms over his head and yanked her chain back across his neck. The back of the Master's head cracked against the marble as Ailsa put all her strength into throttling him. She planted her feet on to the back of the throne, pulling with everything she had. The Master's eyes bulged grotesquely as his face went from red to purple and his fingers clawed at the chain. At first I thought Ailsa had won and I willed her on with every hope I had, but years of neglect had left her weak as I heard whimpers of frustration.

Then with a great roar of triumph the Master stood and yanked the chain from his throat. Ailsa screamed as she was pulled by her chains and hurled across the room, striking a pillar with horrific cry, before lying still.

"You see Godric, you see," screamed the Master manically in between heaving breaths. "This is why we need to bring them to heel, crush their will and break their souls. To bring about a world where they are the beasts and we are the masters."

He spread his arms wide, his robe billowing open, revealing a muscular torso that would have been the envy of many a marble statue. The twin braziers lighting him like a terrible demon, as he grinned insanely at me. I stepped back in fear, not knowing how I could defeat such a man, struggling to think of some heroic retort. It was then I heard a rapid stream of whispered Latin and the flames in the braziers started to dance.

Fyren was chanting with astonishing speed, but she was stumbling and fumbling over her words as panic set in. I charged at the Master in a suicidal rush, grabbing his thick arms and forcing them towards the flames. He growled at me, bringing his crazed eyes to mine as we wrestled for the upper hand.

Then there was a roar as the braziers exploded, the flames engulfing the arms of the Master's robe like winding serpents. He bellowed in fear and rage as I leapt away from the inferno, feeling surges of pain along my arms. The Master's burning robe making him look like some great infernal bird, as he danced about the dais trying to free himself.

Everyone stared in horror for a moment, then pandemonium broke out in the hall. Demi humans fighting humans, cries and shouts everywhere, orcs leaping into battle with glee. With desperate charge I dodged my way through the mayhem, trying to make my way to the others. I put all my strength behind a right hook to a guard's jaw, sending him reeling until Deirdre brought a savage kick to his nether regions. He crumpled to the ground as I winced before yelling to Fyren and Deirdre, "let's get the hell out of here."

While they frisked the guard for a key to their manacles, I picked up the unconscious Ailsa and hoisted her on my shoulder. Her whimper of life bringing gladness to my heart as I carried her towards the door. We joined the other demi humans as they made a protective semi-circle with our backs to the main door. Some were already retreating through as the Orcs and humans closed in on us. In the midst of them, the Master now free of his robe strode towards us.

"So you've chosen your side, Godric," the Master snarled. "I care not for plans now, I will crush you where you stand myself." He smiled monstrously and his followers grinned wickedly as they marched towards us.

"Godric, stand back!" screamed Fyren as she stood in front of me and swung a burning torch in a wide arc. The flames roared up making a huge wall of flames in front of us, screening us from our foes.

"You and your pets can't escape, Godric," screamed The Master as he was forced back by the blaze. "Even if you get out of here, I will hunt you down personally and make you watch as I kill your friends in front of you."

The Master carried on hurling curses as we pulled the doors shut, the heat and light of Fyren's inferno blinking out in a second. Piling furniture in a temporary barricade in front of the door, we knew we had to get moving as the door began to thump under an attack from the other side. I looked at the stairs upwards as some of the other demi humans disappeared from sight.

But Fyren shook her head, her eyes blazing fiercely with determination. "There are others like us here Godric," Fyren said beseechingly. "We can't just leave them to be tortured by these people."

I looked at the stairs again desperately, I really wanted to get out of here and honestly I was worried about Deirdre. Her jaw kept going slack, before she'd snap it shut and eyes were staring around with a wild hunger.

"Please Godric," Fyren begged.

"Very well," I sighed. "But do you even know how to get to the dungeons, because I certainly do not?"

"I think so," said Fyren and shot off down the corridor. I grabbed Deirdre's hand and ran after her, with Ailsa bumping limply on my shoulder. After a few wrong turns we eventually made it down to the cells, the place was eerily quiet as Fyren grabbed a torch and led the way. A guard approached us, but saw Deirdre and bolted. She tore off after him, laughing and yelling in way that sent a chill right through me. I shuddered as the poor sod screamed in terror, Deirdre launching herself upon him and thankfully dragging him out of sight. Fyren gave me a fearful look as we both tried to shut out the sounds of tearing flesh and a cry that was brutally cut short.

We stood frozen until a short while later Deirdre re-emerged, hurriedly trying to clean her hands and face of gore. Despite that she looked on the whole, much healthier with cuts healing and her eyes bright and alert. She'd have looked quite pretty, if it wasn't for the blood splattered over her and the flesh in her hair. Deirdre smiled awkwardly as she saw our grim faces and asked, "can you try to not think about it." An awkward silence hung between us as she flourished an iron key, saying quietly, "Let's just get everyone out of here."

With a lot of whispering and relieved thanks the cells were opened, some of the inhabitants could barely stand and had to be helped out by their stronger fellows. The greatest challenge was freeing the giantess from her shackles, which only broke free of the wall with a great degree of tugging from everyone. There was still the problem of getting her out of here as she had to crawl on hand and knee just to move.

Shouts were coming from up the stairs and I gave a worried look at our rag tag band. But the giantess reached past us and pointed at a great oak door at the end of the corridor. My hope of escape was short lived however, when I saw the huge amount of bolts, locks and chain holding it closed. But the giantess cared little as she crawled up to it and pressed her palm against it. The door creaked, but held firm. Until the great woman struck it with a savage punch that ripped the hinges from the wall.

So we all headed down the long dark tunnel, I looked about at my strange companions as they slowly trudged forwards. Though not all walked, some slithered, some trotted and others experimentally flapped wings. The variety of sizes and shapes was astonishing, with many sporting fur, feathers or scales. I was trying my hardest not to look at the giantess as she crawled in front of me, her great scantily clad bottom was far too exposed for a gentleman such as myself. She looked back, saw my awkwardly averted eyes and blushed, before continuing her difficult path with a sigh.

The tunnel climbed steadily upwards and a welcoming freshness came into the air, as we emerged into another large hall. But this one had the air of crypt, with great marble statues and ornate stone coffins. A great set of brass doors blocked our path, but these stood no chance against the giantess's wrath and slammed outwards, nearly ricocheting shut again.

We all took deep breaths of cool night air, gazing at the stars in wonder at our new found freedom. But that freedom was going to short lived, judging by the shouts coming from inside the crypt. We hurled ourselves at the buckled doors, forcing them closed. But it was blocked by an arm shooting through the gap and strong shoulders started to push the door open again.

Deirdre suddenly leapt forward and sank her teeth into the writhing arm, causing a loud curse to sound from within as the arm was quickly withdrawn. The giantess dropped a couple of huge gravestones in front of the door, piling them until nothing could have opened that place up again. Deirdre spat out a chunk of flesh and said with a dry laugh, "Well that should make things interesting in there."

I gave her red smile a grim look and looked about to assess the situation. Most of the group sitting around were absolutely exhausted, but it was too dangerous to stay here. There was no knowing where the other exits to that place were and we needed to get away to safety. Ailsa was starting to wake and clung to me like a child, whimpering as her fluked tail brushed back and forth. I needed to get her somewhere where she could recuperate and I could assess her injuries.

I gathered everyone around and explained that we needed to get moving and that it'd be safer if we split up into smaller groups and left the capital. They seemed unsure, but there weren't any better ideas so they reluctantly agreed. Small bands began disappearing into the night, heading for hidden places and hopefully friendly safe houses. I hoped they would all be well, but some were in very poor stead.

I looked up at the towering giantess, who stretched her great limbs, glad to finally stand straight. Standing as tall as a house, it took a little bending till I was in ear shot as I said, "Thank you for all you help, err?" I halted pondering if she'd said her name.

"Byghan," she said in a whispered Cornish accent that boomed in the still night. She blushed as she continued, "Thank you for getting me out of there, I should be fine from here, people tend not to look up." Byghan gave me a shy smile as I kissed the tip of her little finger, before standing and walking off with a wave. She disappeared with surprising speed amongst the trees, leaving Fyren, Deirdre and myself with Ailsa alone amongst the graves.

I looked out at the sprawling metropolis, trying to get my bearings as I gazed at the glittering rows of gas lamps. We were on a hill north of the city and judging from our grim surroundings, probably in one of the cemeteries around Highgate. I tried to decide our best course of action, we needed to get as far away from our adversaries as possible. But we also needed money, clothes and I was also worried about my tenant Ms Rosalind. It was a risk, but I wanted to head to my home in Kensington first.

Fyren and Deirdre were surprisingly agreeable, I think they just needed some to rest and take stock of what happened. It would take a few hours, but hopefully we'd get there before dawn. I'd prefer to use the cover of night to keep my strange, scantily clad companions, hidden from unfriendly eyes.

So we set off, keeping to the shadowy back lanes as much as possible, dodging past the odd Bobbie on his beat and the occasional cart delivering goods. The animals of the Royal Zoological Society watched us as we passed, strange growls, hoots and squawks following our path. But after what felt like an age, we made it back to my front door in Sheldrake Place in the heart of the Kensington district of West London. The house was dark and the street seemed empty, I bade the others wait while I searched every shadow for our enemies. Then gingerly tip toed towards the door, approaching the great brass knocker and with a deep breath rapping it.

There was no answer, I waited for a moment and then in desperation hammered the knocker harder. I looked back at the others, Fyren's eyes glowing in the darkness, then turned back as I heard the door creak open. I looked at the open doorway and straight into the wide barrel of a blunderbuss.

The gun was shaking slightly as I looked along the barrel at Rosalind's panicking eyes. I slowly pushed the barrel aside and Rosalind suddenly recognised me. "Godric, you're safe," she cried, pulling me into a rib cracking embrace. Rosalind then looked over my shoulder and asked in a fearful voice, "where's Fyren?"

I beckoned the others over and they scampered across the road, glancing for any sign of pursuit. Rosalind raised an eyebrow at Deirdre and Ailsa, adding in a whisper, "You're not starting a menagerie, are you Godric?"

I laughed uneasily and introduced them, while Fyren and Rosalind hugged each other. "Let's get inside," I said urging them off the street and into the welcoming warmth of Rosalind's front parlour. Ailsa looked around in sleepy confusion as I laid her upon the chaise longue and covered her in a blanket. I collapsed in an armchair and despite my best efforts, promptly fell into a deep sleep.

I awoke well into the following day to the sound of splashing water and tender voices. I peered through half lidded eyes at the ladies giving Ailsa a bath. The girl seemed a greatly invigorated by being submerged in water, her fluked tail swishing back and forth through the water happily.

Ailsa saw me wake and squeaked as she covered herself, while I looked out the window with a blush. I could hear more splashing, scolding and the sounds of Ailsa being patted dry. So by the time I was permitted to look back, Ailsa was clad in billowing night dress and blush, as she smiled shyly at me.

"It's nice to see you looking so well, Ailsa," I said graciously and she only blushed brighter.

Rosalind chuckled, "I surprised it took you so long to wake, Godric. The other two have been happily bathing away, while you've been dozing away like Rip Van Winkle."

I felt a pang of regret at my idleness, but I shrugged it away as it couldn't be helped. I was glad to see the glossy sheen return to Fyren's fur and relieved to see all the blood cleansed from Deirdre's face. I stood and stretched still feeling a great number of aches and pains, anxious to get some breakfast or possibly now luncheon inside me.

"Not so fast, Godric," said Fyren with a menacing smile as I made for the kitchen. I then felt multiple hands grab me, pulling me back until I fell with a great splash into the copper bath tub. There was a great deal of shouting, giggling and cursing, as my clothes were torn from me. It was quite difficult for me to retain my modesty, when four ladies in now rather wet nightwear, were now busy running their hands over me, but I tried to remain a gentleman.

After my bath time ordeal and I'd had a chance to shave and don fresh attire, I felt like a new man. Over some lunch we discussed our adventures with Rosalind who listened in fascination and horror. She was clearly struggling to comprehend such a fanciful tale, but the scars we carried bore the truth of it. She shook her red hair in disbelief and asked, "What are you going to now?"

"We're leaving for Scotland," I said with determination. "I have an uncle up there who should take us in and I'd like to return Ailsa to her family." The others looked surprised, but clearly held no dissent as Ailsa looked at me with eyes glittering with tears. I looked at Rosalind and said, "It's too dangerous for you to stay here, you can come with us or if you have somewhere safe to go, you should go there."

She thought for a moment, then said with a smile, "I'll stay with you. You'll need someone mature and level headed on this venture or you'll get into or sorts of scrapes."

"Mature?" Scoffed Deirdre. "I'm far older than you, so I'm the one who is mature here."

"You'd never believe it, the way you behave," laughed Fyren. Before adding with a sniff of her black nose, "You're only mature in same way cheese is."

"Hey that's not fair you big fur ball," shouted Deirdre. "You smell like-"

"Enough ladies," I cut in with a sigh as Ailsa giggled to herself. "Let's keep to the matter of hand and get everything we need to leave as soon as possible. Can you four sort out your clothes and other provisions we'll need, especially warm clothes and disguises to travel in daylight. I'm going to head upstairs and sort out my gear, so let me know of any problems."

We stood and nodded together with faces of grim determination, before I pounded up the to my chambers. Rummaging through my small wardrobe, I pulled out all my winters clothes and shoved them into my old kit bag. Once clothes were done, there was my old grooming set with razor, since I wanted to look at least half decent with these ladies around.

After a few miss dials I opened my old safe and removed the last vestiges of my finances, along with a few bits of family jewellery that could be pawned if the need came. I looked about at the random antiquities lying about the room, some were no doubt highly valuable, but were too large or heavy to carry. They'd just have to stay here and rot, until such time that I could return, if I ever returned. I was sad to leave my family's treasures behind, but the lives of the ladies downstairs were more important. There was a range of strange and exotic weaponry in the room, but most of it was in poor repair or far too elaborate for practical use in battle. In the end I took a large knife called a machete, that my father had brought back from overseas and wrapped it safely away in a blanket strapped to my bag.

With a sigh I hefted my pack and staggered down the staircase, where I found the ladies just finishing getting ready. Rosalind's extensive wardrobe was being stripped of anything that could be useful on our journey. Her curvaceous physique, meant not everything would fit the others, especially the petit Ailsa, but they'd have to make do till we could tailor them properly.

The ladies were all heavily clothed against the weather, with Rosalind busy applying powders to the faces of Deirdre and Ailsa to make them less grey of skin. No amount of cosmetics could help Fyren, who'd settled for my old hooded travellers cloak as she backed the last of the food into a drawstring bag.

After what seemed like a great deal of time, the ladies were finally ready and we set out on our journey. A Hackney Cab took us, with our considerable luggage to Euston Station and we furtively made our way to the train heading to Glasgow in Scotland. Hoping the curious stares held no underlying threat and that new of our destination would never reach our foes.

As the train puffed its way through the English countryside, I stared out at the window as my nerves relaxed. Rosalind was idly altering a dress for Ailsa, who lay with her head in my lap. Deirdre was chewing on a ham joint, without much grace or delicacy, whilst Fyren dozed against my shoulder. I felt her rub her cheek against mine as Fyren muttered happily in her sleep and I leant back, trying to take a moment to enjoy the peace of our long journey north.

[ _Author's note: Sorry about the wait for this chapter, various things and writer's block got in the way over time. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it, reviews are always appreciated and I look forward to hearing your views.]_


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